The battle of Dvar
by RossTanner
Summary: After the Endor disaster, Jay Hawkers, imperial hunting ace, took off from the "Destiny Blade" for a mission without return: breaking the blockade of one of the Empire's last support points. Shot and wounded, she will have to survive in the hell of "New Massada", the base of the Empire on Dvar, the mud planet. But the worst dangers are rarely there where they are expected...
1. Introduction

Star Wars does not belong to me. The background story and the characters come from the (brilliant) imagination of Georges Lucas.

What will follow should be consider as the scum on the top of the wave. Just a few scum…

* * *

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Port turret S7-31 "Bunker Hill".

Chaos…

This is what the gunner Vierbein lived since the departure of the last stellar destroyer of the Empire, the ESV262 unofficially christened "Destiny Blade", which had left the space shipyard of Kuat just before the invasion of the planet and the construction sites by the Republican forces.

Due to lack of time, whole units were not pressurized, and only two out of three propellants were operational. An army of technicians was working tirelessly to start the third reactor but according to the rumours that the supplying chores brought back that not go well.

The turret pit, which was the world of the gunner and the rest of the space gunner's team to which he belonged, consisted of a cylinder cut in several stages. The upper stage, the turret in contact with the space vacuum included the direct sighting systems and the four turbolaser tubes. In normal service, no one had to enter, the shooting being directed by the central points and automatically reloaded.

In case of any problem with operation or guidance an access was provided by an airlock comprising two light pressurized suits, one for the pointer and one for the gunner. These combinations were to be put on in a strictly limited time, and rehearsals and trainings followed one another without rest.

Immediately under the turret was the technical section, which included all the servitudes of the turbolaser. This section was the reserved domain of the fire engineer who reigned supreme over this pile of boxes and cables of all types and sections. This section was pressurized and powerfully ventilated to remove the calories from the system.

Finally, still below, was the crew quarter, which included the common room, which served as a dining hall, a transmission centre and a break room, which was taken in pairs. A narrow corridor led from this room, which led to the fourth thoroughfare on the port side of the destroyer. Due to the incompleteness of the vessel, this corridor was also not pressurized, and the supply chore that took place every five space days (the term being conventional, the notion of day, terrestrial or not, having no meaning in space) had to be done in combination.

In fact, the entire vessel was only a conglomerate of small autonomous cells, still reinforced by incomplete pressurization.

Vierbein was at this point of his thought when the handle of the access door began to turn. Sergeant Hanson entered the room, closed the airlock, took off his helmet, put it in the slot, and placed on the central table the twenty standard rations for the new period of autonomy, all without saying any word.

"What is the news?" asked Josse, the pointer.  
"Nothing official yet, but it's crowded with "black faces" in the central areas" replied Hanson with a neutral voice.

Everyone knew what he meant. The "black faces", the nickname of the Death Trooper, were the elite force of the Empire, which maintained discipline with an iron hand in what was left of the imperial army. To know them in large numbers in the ship meant only one thing: to went deeply into the heart of the troubles.

"But still? Did you have to learn something in the ordinary?" added Virbein.  
"There will be a general communication from Louchke before the end of the period," said Hanson, who took the ration bag from the table and put it in the refrigerated compartment.

It meant: end of communication, give me peace.

"Anyway, "The Cobra" will have no choice: we must have half of the fleet Reps running after us" said Haberg, the ordnances engineer. "He'll have to tell us when we have to preheat our guns."

Haberg thought only in professional terms. His heart and his brain had to be in his cupboards among plugs and breakers, thought Virbein.

"The Cobra" was the nickname of Admiral Louchke, in relation to his cold and impassive appearance. Despite this unglamorous name, he was highly respected by the troupe and had repeatedly proved his worth during the retreat that followed the destruction of the Death Star.

The four men did not really know each other yet.

The crews had been trained in a hurry just before departure, in total violation of fleet regulations, which always required extensive ground preparation before going on a mission in space.

Of the four, Josse was the most experienced. He had already served at Yavin and Endor, where he was on Devastator. Recovered from the Thunderflare after the destruction of this vessel, he had retreated from the rest of the squadron to Kuat, where he was finally assigned to the Destiny Blade. Having participated in two lost battles had given him great respect and a great thirst for revenge against the Republican forces.

Next came Hanson and Haberg, who had also served at Endor on the Stalker, although not at the same location, and then Vierbein, who was on the Tyrant at Hoth, where he had been wounded by the shooting of the famous Ionic Cannon of the Rebels. After a long convalescence, he was assigned to a Pursuit-class light cruiser, on which he had participated in some secondary skirmishes.

The departure took place six days ago, just before the seizure of the dock by the Republican expeditionary forces, the LRSS, the famous "Long Range Space Squad". These had stormed the garrison of the planet, which had withstood enough time to allow the ship to leave its holds and set out for free space. The LRSS, too weakly armed to directly confront a stellar destroyer, had to resign itself to letting it go, but it certainly alerted the rest of the fleet, which was currently in formation and calculating its intercept course to emerge from hyperspace at any moment.

By leaving the shipyard, the ship had won in addition to its standard TIE, three carriers and a squadron of SturmRam, these TIE /sa armoured with heavy armament allowing them to face directly the republicans frigates.

Due to the non-pressurization of whole slices of the ship, the crews had to sleep in or around their vessels, which did not facilitate cohabitation with the crew of the destroyer. Overpopulation annoyed everyone, feeling reinforced by the acrobatic conditions of departure from the yard.

From his post, that's all the gunner knew so far.

* * *

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", conference room.

Admiral Louchke was seated at the end of the report table, the protocol place used in the fleet of the Empire. In front of him were the technical staffs: navigation, propulsion, support and hold. On his right, the embarked squadron leaders, hunting, transport and assault. Unlike the usual staffing, there was no bombing group, which was replaced by the assault squadron. To his left, the places reserved for the dignitaries.

The lighting in the room was provided by portable field lights, the ship's internal wiring could not be completed before departure.

It was first the technical managers who spoke. The navigation had little to say, still ignoring the final destination of the ship. The admiral learned, however, that all equipment had been calibrated and that the main command bridge was fully operational, which was good news, given the circumstances.

Then came the turn of propulsion, for which the report was longer and the news much worse. Indeed, the central engine was still not working; the last attempt to start was an explosion and several deaths in the pump room. A new attempt was planned at the end of the period, but in the meantime the speed did not allow making the big jump to escape the enemy fleet.

After the brief intervention of the support and hold staff, Louchke spoke:

"I have to communicate to you the Imperial Council's orders. The mission up to us is to break the blockade of Dvar and to strengthen the garrison of "New Massada" ".

A leaden silence welcomed this statement. Everyone thought the same thing: Dvar was several light years from Kuat. How can you think you can do that with a ship that can't accelerate? In addition, the imperial base had been under the relentless blockade of the Republican fleet for months, which had succeeded in landing on the planet despite heavy losses. Two frigates were patrolling permanently around the system to which Dvar belonged and apart from a few small smuggler ships, nothing reached the garrison or what was left of it.

The admiral continued: "For this purpose, the presence on board carriers and two regiments of the Black Legion should allow us to fulfill this mission successfully."

"Some hope!" thought the hold manager very strongly.

"Nothing says that the two regiments are destined for the garrison. It would amaze me that the first advisor sacrificed his Praetorian guard into the furnace of "New Massada"".

He could not help staring at the Admiral.

Ulysses Louchke was a native of Commenor, son of a small imperial official. He had joined the imperial academy from which he had come out in an honest rank to command first on assault gunboat, and then he quickly rose to take command of a frigate at Yavin and then from a destroyer to Hoth.

For obscure reasons, he was arrested after this battle for high treason, degraded and interned at the Jagg Island Detention Center.

After the destruction of the Death Star, with the Empire dramatically lacking senior officers, he was released, reinstated to his former active rank, and provided protection for Imperial regiments at the time of retreat until Kuat. He had only learned of his appointment on the ESV262 (which was not yet called the "Destiny Blade") until a week before departure.

"Are you still who you were? What if you had been given this mission only to better lose you, and us with it?"

He turned his head slightly on the side of the dignitaries. There were four, all men.

The first was called Heini Crebs. He was an old man, tall enough, thin and a little hunched. He was not wearing a uniform, but the Jedi tunic, although the Jedi order no longer existed. He also wore a lightsaber on his belt, in complete contradiction with the regulations of the fleet which proscribed the permanent wearing of individual weapons on board ships. He owed this freedom to his status as special envoy of the Imperial Council to the admiral responsible for controlling the smooth running of the mission.

"What the hell did you do to save your skin?" The hold manager wondered. "A black hole must be light beside to your conscience... "

The next one was a Death Trooper colonel, which indicated that he belonged to the first circle of the Empire. His name was Ayad Isse and he commanded the two regiments of the Black Guard.

The third, the youngest, was Ryan Taman. He wore a captain's uniform of the Imperial Guard and commanded the reinforcement troops for Dvar. He had also led the delay fight against the LRSS in Kuat. Rising star of the imperial army, he dreamed of shining in this campaign and joining the black guard.

The last one was also wearing a Jedi outfit but no lightsaber. He was small, wrinkled, and clearly did not intend to interfere in the current conversation. Only his eyes were slowly moving through the audience. His job was the same as Heini Crebs's, but he had to follow Ryan Taman and the reinforcements on Dvar.

He had accepted without hesitation or murmurs this mission, which looked more like a suicide by order. His name was Wolfgang Bujac.

Heini Crebs spoke:

"Admiral, the Imperial Council has granted you his trust for this vital operation for the empire. You know that Dvar is the last point of advanced support of what remains of our space territory. I do not doubt for a moment your determination ..."  
"I will be very curious to know how, Goddammit!" Ryan Taman abruptly interrupted him.  
"I do not see how this tub can be useful to serve the Empire!"

He stared at Loukke straight in the eye.

"You are supposed to bring us to Dvar to support our assault and you are unable to accelerate!"

All the members of the assembly froze except the admiral. He looked at Taman and at the same time seemed to see behind him.

It was up to Isse to intervene:

"No, no, Ryan, not like that. You are invited on the Admiral's ship, you must be polite. He has authorized you to go aboard you and your men, and there, you see, he will explain to you how he intends to go to get you to work."

He had spoken in a soft voice, like when one want to calm down a capricious child.

Louchke then took the floor again:

"The situation is as follows: we do not currently have the capacity to switch to hypervelocity. If the new attempt fails, the imperial troops will have to leave the ship without delay to make the trip by their own means to Dvar."

He turned to his right and spoke to the crews on board:

"Reunite yourself and establish a plan of navigation and attack of the Republican blockade fleet. You have ten hours to come back and present what you have found."

Taman spoke again. He no longer looked at the admiral but at the squadron leaders.

"Can you imagine attacking Republican frigates without a destroyer?"  
"Yes, indeed!" answered a clear voice in front of him.

The officer who had just spoken thus was the commander of the assault squadron.

Her name was Jay Hawkers. She was a medium-sized woman, rather muscular, with a banal face and short cut hair. His uniform jacket of the Imperial fleet wore the insignia of major, pilot, and, less commonly, sniper.

"We have done it already, and we will do it again," she added.

Taman continued:

"I hope for you that they are not hot air!"  
"We will destroy these vessels or we will all die there!" replied Jay.

Crebs looked at her. "That's exactly what we need", he thought.

The admiral concludes:

"The essential has been said. We will let the squadron leaders work and we will see what they have prepared to support the landing. Next command meeting in ten o'clock"

All the participants in the meeting got up and left the room without a word.


	2. In a doubtful fight

TB-TT "Ghost Raider", unallocated crew, land battle of Dvar.

"Do you see something?" asked at least for the tenth time the driver.  
"Shut up, Yil" answered for the tenth time Julius Mansour, the tank commander.

In the dim light, he wiped the lens of his periscope again. The cockpit was a real stove, the air conditioning was down and everything was dripping with condensation. He concentrated on trying to distinguish a shadow or movement in the mist in front of the tank.

The TT-TB was not used according to the imperial armoured campaign regulations because it had been a long time since "New Massada" was no longer a base of the Empire like the others.

The tank was tucked up in a sort of pit with two ramps. The front ramp widened to allow the maximum of deflection to the head and its armament, the rear ramp was the width of the tank and was only used to put in position.

Once the quadripod was placed in its trench, camouflage nets were placed to hide it and both ramps, and these nets were then covered with mud and gray dust that characterized the planet. The tank was thus almost buried, forming only a small ripple of ground, as there were in quantity in the plains of Dvar.

In this configuration, the armoured window of the cockpit was unusable, only the periscope, duly camouflaged too, could be used to guide the pointing and shooting.

This luxury of precaution was made necessary by the overwhelming air superiority of the republican forces. There were always three or four Y-Wing marauders ready to dive on any suspicious movement. All the movements of the few surviving vehicles had to be done just before dawn, taking advantage of the fog that spread the detectors of the Republican forces.

The Empire's space base and landing strips had been swept away in the early days of the Republican offensive, making impossible any landing or medical evacuation.

Initially, the supplying could have been provided by light carriers who dropped their containers at low altitude, then due to the blockade tightening they were replaced by automatic shuttles and finally by nothing at all after the destruction of the guiding relays by the republican fleet.

At this stage of the battle, only two tiny smugglers' ships were supplying the base three times a week. Ammunition, especially heavy weapons, had the highest priority. Then came the spare parts, the food supply and lastly the medical equipment. The ships then left after having loaded ore, present in the form of veins flush with the surface of the planet and which then served for obscure traffics. The extraction was first carried out by military convicts, then the losses increasing in the ranks of the defenders, by Republican prisoners.

Julius wiped his eyepiece once more. At his side, the gunner said nothing.

"She may have fallen asleep" he said to himself.

He was not worried about that, Esi was the best gunner he had ever known.

He looked into the eyepiece again and narrowed his eyes. A slight variation of color had just appeared, still distant, followed by a second, then another two. They were getting closer slowly; at least that's what he thought at first.

He said in a curt voice to the rest of the crew: "They are coming. Four. One to eleven, two to one and one at three. Estimated distance 1100 yards"

His two crew members were busy in the darkness of the post. Esi heating the tubes of the lasers, Yil pre-tensioning the actuators of the legs of the tank. The whole crew pulled on their helmets, still keeping the visor up. It would be lowered only at the beginning of the fight, in order to delay the emergence of the fog and to preserve the best possible vision.

He looked back into his periscope. The four spots had drifted a bit.

It was four TP-TTs advancing towards them. Where to start? He had to estimate their positions when they would come within range of fire. He made a quick mental calculation and decided that he would start from the left.

The optical rangefinder indicated 800 yards. He was less accurate than the pointing laser, but he was undetectable. 700 ... It was necessary to wait again, although 700 is a distance considered sufficient to trigger a salvo.

He checked the drift. Nine, ten, four... Excellent, his first victims were grouped. The right one, on the other hand, was moving away, which was not a big deal. The TP-TT lasers could only pierce their armour less than 450 yardss away. We will always have plenty of time to deal with it afterwards.

650, 550... Now we had to act.

"Yil, Elevation to the signal! Esi, shooting on two targets at nine!"

Esi toppled some switches from his control panel.

"Lasers armed!" She said to her chief.

500 yards now. The right distance.

He shouted: "Up and shot!"

The Tank rose from a block, removing the camouflage nets. The head was level with the ground, its lasers almost horizontal, already pointed towards the first republican bipod.

They saw through the glass the TP-TT burst, one his legs still taking a step on his momentum before crashing into the mud. Esi adjusted the next discharge, and a second bipod exploded afterwards.

"Down!"

The tank retreated into its lair. Julius immediately went back to the periscope. The third bipod, that of the centre, had spotted them and was now running at full speed to the left to attack them flank. The fourth also came and went back to the buried tank.

It was necessary to act quickly. Still a few tens of meters and the bipod can shoot. He gave the coordinates to the crew and shouted again:

"Up and shot!"

Missed ! The bipod had anticipated the movement and had gone back. "A smart man", Julius thought, "But as you do, comrade, you're losing the distance for your own weapons".

As if he had listened, the TP-TT started again. That's exactly what the gunner was waiting for. The weapons swayed and then the lasers cut off the left leg of the Republican tank. He lay down on the side and began to smoke.

"Down!"

There remained the fourth, which had disappeared from the field of armored glass. Julius rushed to the periscope, put it in the open field, and swept around the chariot.

He had to turn around and enlarge to see it. The bipod turned their backs on them and returned to the republican lines.

"He abandons his comrades? What does it mean?"

No sooner had he uttered these words than a tremendous explosion occurred just beside the trench. A Y-wing had just passed thirty feets above the tank, the second was following. Although embarrassed by the dust of his leader, the beginning of his burst shooting reached the tank, piercing the hold that was used to board the troopers which was empty.

It would have been a good carnage, Julius thought.

The two Y-Wing turned right.

"Well done!" Julius acknowledged. The four TP-TT had been bait, and he had bitten well. But was there another solution? He could not help but think of the six dead bipod crews. Leathery still these Reps. Not as much as we, of course, but still.

Yil ! High exit! Full throttle to left!

It would have been necessary to flee, to take refuge among trees, in a hollow valley or in the middle of a nest of antiaircraft lasers. There was none of this on Dvar.

Just this gray plain, slightly undulating like an ocean of mud.

About anti-aircraft lasers, they had perhaps to exist, long time ago, in the parallel world of staffs.

So they had to keep fighting, again and again.

The tank rose fully, unfolding its paws. He left the front and turned to the left to run in the no man's land parallel to the front line. The whole crew had lowered their visors as soon as they left the trench.

Julius watched the sky to anticipate the trajectory of the two ships. Fortunately, the weather was wet and he could perfectly observe their contrails. They made a wide bend and would come back on their left. He turned the turret to face them. He shouts to the gunner:

-Here they are. Free fire!

TB-TT fired from all his pieces. The first Y-Wing took a few hits, but was able to finish his pass, sounding the top of the quadripod's head and piercing the cargo bay again. There were a few sparks and alarms went off in the cabin, while the fighter-bomber moved away leaving a trail of smoke from its port thruster.

The second ship attacked afterwards, but Esi had enough time to refine his aim.

The laser discharge hit the Y-Wing in the cockpit but the out of control vessel continued its downward trajectory and struck the TB-TT at full speed. The right front leg was ripped out and the remaining wreck broke up on the back leg causing an incipient fire.

Yil, by a prodigy of conduct, managed to not knock the tank down in shock.

Julius glanced at the periscope. He was going to order Yil to bend his legs to lower the centre of gravity, when he saw two reflections getting closer to them.

-Foes at full right! He screamed.

The gunner turned the head, but it was too late.

The first Y-Wing shot all his weapons on the back leg burning and cut it at the knee. The second pierced the bunker again and blew up the rear accumulators.

The TB-TT fell from its full height on the right side.

In the cabin, it was chaos. Panels broke off, cables too, and more seriously, short circuits appeared, instantly vaporizing some of the weapons wiring. Julius felt the bite of the heat wave through his suit.

Someone was screaming, certainly Esi from the sound of the voice.

Julius crawled through the sizzling smoke, reached the top escape hatch and opened it all at once. He sucked in a big gulp of air and went back inside to try to find the rest of his crew. He first hit Yil, who had crawled against the front window. "A clever one", he thought, letting himself pass.

He eventually found Esi who had less luck. She had been blocked and burned by the weapons boxes. He released her and pushed her through the opening. One of his legs was almost intact, the other already almost charred. The tank crews classic fate.

He went out in his turn, crawled on his elbows, gave a high sweat, opened his visor, and began to vomit.

Esi kept screaming.

He thought wiping his mouth. "Goddamn! Where do they find the strength to yell as loud?"

He raised his head and took a panoramic look. And he saw other TP-TTs running in his direction. He also saw that infantrymen were hanging on the sides of the bipods.

They are not afraid of being shaken, he told himself.

It was impossible to remain motionless; they would reapply from one moment to another. He took Esi on his back, and tried to return to the friendly lines. There were five hundred yards, which in its situation was worth ten kilometres. Or ten parsecs. Or maybe a light year or two. Anyway, by wearing his injured gunner, he had no chance.

He turned around. The TP-PPs had stopped and covered the infantrymen. "They are suspicious of our mines and they are right", Julius thought, starting to run back to the trench, if we could call it running.

He turned again to see two infantrymen who had broken off from the group running towards him. He put his hand on his belt to draw his blaster, and found… nothing. He must have lost it when the tank fell or went in search for Esi.

The first republican raised his trench shovel; he was five yards away from Julius who heard a detonation behind him. The blast hit the soldier around his neck, his head rocking in all directions before he collapsed, carried away by his impulse at the feet of the tanker. His comrade suffers the same fate.

He heard a voice he recognized immediately. It was Blom, who was coming out with a few others of individual holes carefully camouflaged.

"So, how are you losing your things?" He said, leaning over the corpse.

He turned it over quickly to pick his pockets and get the ammunition.

"It was a bit hot this time," Julius said panting. "Try to be early next time".

Blom picked up the shovel and examined it as a connoisseur.

"Nice tool", he finally said. "You wouldn't have suffered".

Esi was not screaming anymore.


	3. Transition

Nine hundred yards away, two Republican officers, stretched out under a camouflaged tarp, watched the engagement.

"It was their last quadripode," said the one behind a powerful telescope.  
-It cost us quite a lot like that, not to mention what it destroyed before, answered the one who was behind the binocular.

The observer who had just spoken was called Alan Kotec. He had the rank of second lieutenant and was one of the very few survivors of the first wave of assault on Dvar. He had escaped without a scratch but had to sleep in a reserved bungalow away from the cantonments. His howling during his sleep made any rest impossible for other soldiers.

"It's true they have nothing left, but they know how to use it well," said the first.

They folded their gear, and turned back to their lines. They finally reached it and went down into a trench. There, they began to walk normally. The officer who accompanied Alan said:

-Will make our report.

Alan didn't answer. It had now been six months since the battle began. First a month of space shelling, which we thought would clean up everything, then the landing itself, which had ended in a complete disaster. He remembered the joyful atmosphere in the frigates before the assault. We were all really stupid. Or crazy. Or unconscious. Or maybe all of the above.

The imperials had created an inextricable network of trenches, bunkers, fox holes, all strewn with various and varied mines and they had jumped in there with both feet. Three regiments had been annihilated in barely two hours. He and ten soldiers had survived only a tiny ripple of the ground that had masked them time to bury themselves. And again, of the ten, three were already wounded and did not survive the first night.

But these eight remaining men were able the next day to guide by radio the space attacks that had created a no-man's land and allowed to widen the bridgehead. They had stayed like that for a week, so long as the firing of the ships in orbit pushed the imperial snipers who were harassing them far enough back. In the end, four men could be relieved by a new squad. It earned him a quote from the army, an extra rank, and a few nights that were repeated indefinitely in his memory.

The trench widened. They met a few soldiers, then at a baffle, a group of three scouts, members of the LRSS. One of the scouts hailed them:

"So, did you get it?"  
"We have finally arrived," replied the officer.  
"How much did it cost us?"  
"Three TP-TT, two Y-Wing plus some soldiers who wanted to be zealous."  
"It was lucky that there was some sun on this damn planet," said Alan's companion. "We could see its thermal signature. Camouflaged as it was, we would still be there."  
"Where are you going?" Alan asked the Scouts.  
"One feels the imperial defences," replied a sergeant who seemed to be the chief. "We must find their batteries and their minefields for the final offensive!"

Everyone laughed.

"It's been at least three months that we are in the final offensive!" Exclaimed Kotec's mate.  
"What about "Bloodhound"?" One of the scouts asked his leader.  
"We are here again for a good time, answered this one. Good, it's even better when the beast is cornered", he added with a funny look.

Alan, a little uncomfortable, looked at the badge on his chest and read: "Liam Spade". He had heard that name before, but he could not remember what.

They saluted and everyone left on his side. Alan asked his companion:

"Do you know this guy?" This name tells me something.  
"Ah you want to talk about "Bloodhound"?" He is one of the best scouts of "LRSS".  
"It's weird, that's not what I heard about it."  
"It must also be said that he enjoys a solid reputation as a sadist and assassin. But for now the command covers"

It was back to him now. A dirty story of torture and summary execution of prisoners. The rumour had prospered for a moment and then finally died out. Obviously, he was protected.

They walked in silence, and eventually reached the command post. They announced, entered, and made their report.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262, "Destiny Blade", Admiral's Apartment.

Three of the protagonists of the first meeting were in the reception lounge of the Admiral's suite. It was Crebs, Isse and finally Louchke, their host.

Crebs spoke first:

"Amiral, we are here to prepare the orders to be given at the next conference. I just spoke with the first counsellor Pestage who reminded me of the importance of this mission which for him must stop the Republican invasion"

Louchke replied quickly:

"I got the report of the technical team working on the third propellant of the ship. The system has been sabotaged and is irreparable. We will never reach Dvar"

Both men received the shock. Crebs asked:

"Information was given to the crews on board?"  
"No," answered Louchke. "It does not change anything for them and they need to focus on their plan of attack."  
"Squadrons and carriers can reach Dvar?" Said Crebs.  
"Yes, hyperdrive boosters have been shipped, giving the necessary range extension to the TIE and SturmRam. For carriers there will be no problem, they have their own ability to reach Dvar."  
"When do you intend to send them away?"  
"As soon as possible, right after the conference. There is no point in keeping them longer. We may already have a squadron of B-Wings on our heels, and an attack during the take-off of the formations would be a disaster."

Isse intervened:

"I will give my orders so that my two regiments embark as soon as possible"  
"It will not be necessary" said Louchke. You will stay on board.

Isse jumped as if he had been slapped. Crebs was not far from doing the same.

"What? But these are not the orders of the Council!" Isse was almost screaming.  
"The order is to bring support to "New Massada". It has never been specified how this mission should be fulfilled."  
"But if we do not strengthen the garrison ..." said Crebs.  
"The situation of the base is already desperate. Two or more regiments will not change much"  
"How dare you speak so?" shouted Isse. "This is high treason!"

Crebs watched the two men. The Admiral, cold as a reptile, Isse picked up on himself, ready to pounce. He decided to drop the pressure:

"Explain us your choices"  
"The ship is lost, it can not manoeuvre, and its only use will be to waste as much time as possible to the Republican fleet to leave the field to Taman"  
"Do you think he can do it alone?" said Isse.  
"Perhaps" replied the admiral. "He certainly thinks so."  
"Why do you want to keep the two Death Trooper regiments on board?" asked Crebs.  
"To ensure that the Reps have the worst difficulties when investing the ship. Make no mistake, we will not have the nice role, our situation will certainly be worse than on Dvar"  
"But why would the Reps want to invest the ship? They can simply destroy it at a distance by ionic cannon..."

The admiral had a thin smile:

"They will not resist the temptation to capture an imperial destroyer. The destroyer, the queen of battles..."

Saying this, he had approached an ancient space chess game on a coffee table, and caressed the queen, the centrepiece of the game. The chess piece flickered, rolled out of the plate and came to rest at the foot of a small statuette representing a god long forgotten.

A long silence came, which was finally broken by Isse:

"I hope you know what you are doing."  
"If the Council does not approve of my bad and disloyal services, it can always relieve me of my command," replied the admiral, looking at Crebs straight in the eye.

Crebs nodded. He says:

"And if the Reps have other other fish to fry?" "We will have reduced our chances of winning on Dvar..."  
"If we are not attacked" Louchke said, "There will still be the possibility of using the ship's three commuter shuttles to send the black guard to Dvar. Your troops will be a little tight, but that should not be a problem"

Isse relaxed a little. The prospect of fully following the Imperial Council's commandments reassured him. He says:

"Like that, it suits me. If the ship is not attacked within three days of the departure of the intervention fleet, I leave with my men to fight on Dvar."  
"What do you think, Admiral?" Crebs asked.  
"It's perfect" Louchke replied.  
"Well, everything has been said" Crebs concludes.

He looked at the old clock on the living room partition.

"We have two hours left before the conference. I will communicate my report to the council. Please accept our leave, Admiral"

Louchke smiled. Crebs always respected the protocol. He answered:

"Authorization granted, imperial representatives"

The two men saluted and went out. In the corridor leading to their apartments Isse spoke:

"I'll go check out these connecting shuttles. There would be no more that it is ships of amenities!"  
"You're right" said Crebs. Who knows what this devil of man has in store for us..."  
"Do you believe in this story of assaulting the Reps?"

Crebs took a moment to answer.

"He does not tell us everything, that's for sure, but so far he's been right. I think we can trust him and that will be the meaning of my report to the Imperial Council"

Then the two men then left each other to their respective occupations.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", conference room.

Admiral Rousseau sat at the end of the report table of the hall, which was strictly the same as that of the "Destiny Blade", the "Emancipator" being none other than the former "Accuser" captured during the battle of Endor. The layout of the stakeholders was also identical, the traditions of the two fleets being very similar. The differences between the two rooms were in the lighting, plentiful here, and the presence on the table of refreshments and cups of fruit.

"Gentlemen, I have just received reports from the LRSS and our agents on Kuat. The Destiny Blade is currently travelling in sub luminous velocity at six space days of our fleet. The sabotage carried out by our infiltrators has been very effective. They will never be able to restart their third propellant, and we will only have to reach out to pick them."

All participants smiled except one.

The one who did not participate in the general joy was called Jed Koïnsky. He was a lieutenant in the LRSS, seconded to the admiral by headquarters as a liaison officer.

The navigation officer spoke:

"Admiral, with the information we have, we feel that their ship is heading towards the nebula of mercy"

One of the commanders of the onboard fleet ticked:

"It's odd; it's a rough, badly paved corner, riddled with devourers. To my knowledge, maps do not exist, no exploration vessel has ventured there"

The devour, that is, the black hole, was the equivalent of Kraken or Moby Dick in the mythology of space sailors.

"It may want to try to get away the time to repair its propellant" ventured the navigation manager.  
"It will not help anyway" said the admiral. He added:  
"In how long will it reach this place?"  
"At its current speed, in about three space days"  
"And when can we catch up?" Asked the admiral.  
"We cannot go into hypervelocity, the distance is too short. Knowing that we can go three times faster than him at normal speed, we will be there too in three days"  
"Are we able to catch him right when he gets back into this system?"  
"Yes admiral," replied the officer.  
"And it's perfect! Grow the machinery" said the admiral, to the attention of the propulsion officer.  
"And soon we will be able to add one more trophy to my fleet and to the republic!"

Jed spoke up:

"Admiral, could not we rather send them a squadron of B-Wing to immobilize them the time we arrived in force?"

The admiral looked at Jed as if he had just spoken obscenity.

"But you have not thought about it!", "I want to personally command the boarding!"  
"But the admiral who commands this ship ..."

Jed was curtly interrupted by the admiral:

The Admiral lost his temper and curtly interrupted Jed.

"Do not talk to me about this jail bird!" "I and my fleet have nothing to fear from this man!"  
"That's because he made you suffer during their retirement?" Jed thought.

But the admiral being master on his ship, he was silent

The admiral resumed, opening his arms, as if he wished to bless the assembled crowd:

"I will make a general communication to the crew in an hour. Officers, go prepare your crews for the victory! "

Everyone applauds.

Jed was scared. He thought that a wind of madness was blowing on the command bridge.


	4. Proclamations

Imperial Destroyer II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", main hangar.

Due to a lack of pressurized area in the vessel, the pilots' briefing was held in the main hangar and not in the command room as usual. The pilots and crew members were gathered in groups according to the squadrons. The transport group was a little out of the way.

The squadron leaders presented the flight plan to the crews. It planned a course of preparation, then a big hypervelocity jump near Dvar. The three transport ships had to follow an hour later to avoid being exposed to the heart of the battle. It was considered that one hour was enough to severely diminish the enemy fleet.

The main tricky point of the plan was the final approach. It was necessary to get as close as possible to the enemy formation by being detected as late as possible. The Republic's fleet had truffled the asteroids of detectors, first the "Autovon" network for remote detection, then the "Freya" took over with a better spatial resolution. The jammers delayed the detection and especially prevented to quantify precisely the magnitude of the threat.

Another sensitive point was the passage in hypervelocity. Indeed, the TIE and SturmRam did not have an autonomous capacity to reach it, being supposed to be brought to combat distance by the imperial cruisers. Due to the increasingly limited number of these ships, the Imperial engineers had to design a palliative, a single-use booster that was only used for projection and then dropped before engagement.

The development of this device was quite laborious and fraugt with accident, it was called by the crews "TIE Killer", the "explosive Plug" and many other nicknames even less formal. It required especially a perfect alignment early in the trajectory and had the reputation of being inaccurate on arrival due to manufacturing tolerances, which resulted in a dispersion of formations.

"They see us from a distance," Jay said loudly. "It will be necessary to reform the tight formation from the exit of the hypervitesse and to keep it until the assault. If one of you comes out, he will put himself in danger and decrease the effectiveness of the group jamming. Think about it. It must not happen!"

The pilot group remained silent.

Jay looked around the assembly. Most of the pilots had only basic training, they knew how to take off, to fly in a straight line, to accost, but for the shooting and the fight it was another kettle of fish. The rate of loss of the imperial fleet having exploded, flying schools could not keep pace.

She remembered the last battles. It was a long list of forgotten weapon switch, inversion of the controls during the manoeuvre, collision by fascination on the target, even though this last fault presented at least a guarantee of result.

She realized that she was one of the last survivors of a bygone era, one in which the imperial fleet dominated the meager rebel and then republican squadrons.

The change had been gradual, almost imperceptible at first, which had put the vigilance of the high staff to sleep. It was due for many to the progressive commissioning of the last X-Wing, the T65 and especially the T70. She had piloted some captured vessels for evaluation, and found that the Empire's fighters were outclassed in all areas.

She remembered the conclusion of the discourse of a senior officer of the fleet:

"You started this war with the TIE, you will win it with the TIE!"

As if fanaticism could increase the speed of a ship or the power of a laser!

She looked again at the crews. How many would land to "New Massada"? Ten? Five? One? Maybe none finally. In any case, it did not matter anymore, any return to the mothership being impossible.

She clenched her teeth. If she could not believe anymore, her, the ace, the squadron leader, the model, how could she still command them?

The wave of doubt came back, and she gave her last instructions.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator" crew quarter.

After the conference, Jed Koïnsky returned to his quarters, where he found the two NCOs who had accompanied him on the flagship. The first, a sergeant-chef hailed him:

"So Jed? What are we waiting for to smash the imperials?"

No sooner had he finished his sentence than the loudspeaker reserved for announcements to the crew started:

"Here your admiral. Soldiers and space sailors, a great victory awaits you! We are now on the road to relentlessly charging on the last remnants of the imperial fleet!

Thanks to your Admiral's enlightened command, you will write a page of immortal glory in the history of the fleet! Obey my orders and eternal fame will be yours!

Long live the fleet! Long live the Republic!"

The message ended with the powerfully rhythmic air of the Republican march of space sailors, the hymn of the fleet.

The second NCO exclaimed, with a happy air:

"That's it! Let's go! It smells like the medal!"

Jed answered the two, looking gloomy:

"Sorry guys, but you're going to leave the ship."  
"How!" exclaimed the first NCO. "But why?"  
"That mission, I don't feel it" said Jed. The admiral is far too confident, he despises the adversary and it always ends badly.  
"But Louchke can not do anything! His ship was sabotaged!" says the second.  
"Well even Louchke would have only a survival capsule drifting in the vacuum, I will take my precautions. This guy is as dangerous as the scorpion on our sleeves" Jed replied.

He added:

"I asked for your transfer on two of the assault frigates that protects the flagship. You'll be the "Space Queen IV", and you're the "Hoth's Revenge II" ".  
"But why separate us?" asked the sergeant-chef.  
"Because I do not know where the blow will come from" Jed said. "And if we are all together in the same place and it is bad, we will unable to react effectively".

The two NCOs did not hide their scepticism.  
"Upon your arrival on the frigates, you will immediately check contacts with the Kuat LRSS antenna,"

Jed added: "In order we can let go of all our bloodhounds"

Everything had been said. The two NCOs packed their bags, saluted and went out.

* * *

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Port turret S7-31 "Bunker Hill".

Hanson, Josse, Vierbein and Haberg were eating together at the central table when the crew announcement loudspeaker started:

"Here is your admiral speaking. We are now on way to the nebula of mercy. Ships and attack crews bound for Dvar will leave the ship in two hours. An hour after their departure, the carriers carrying the reinforcement units of "New Massada" will leave in their turn.

To give them time to accomplish their mission, our ship will have to drag the Republican fleet in our pursuit as far as possible.

A hard time awaits us, but I know that everyone on board will fulfill their duty to the end. Long live the fleet! Long live the Empire!"

Communication stopped.

The four men looked at each other. It was Hanson who broke the first the silence:

"Now, here we are"

Virbein replied:

"How many days still to live? And almost no women on board! Misery of us!"  
"We're not going to make a crease with our lame ship" moans Haberg. "The Reps will go to the pigeon shooting!"  
"Shut up, bunch of larvae!"

It was Josse.

"We are not dead yet," he continued, "and even if it must happen, we must make them pay as dearly as possible! I'm tired of being fooled by the Reps! It has happened twice, there will be no third!"  
"What can the Admiral think?" Hanson asked. "I spoke with a master corporal who works on the side of the card room. It seems that the admiral stayed there a long time with the helmsmen. But he knows nothing more".  
"Anyway, whether it works or not "The Cobra" will do his best, and I will follow him to the end" concludes Josse in an unanswerable tone.

The other two, a little embarrassed, looked at their plates.

Josse addressed Virbein:

"It's our watch shift; we'll go up in the turret to repeat a bit. I feel you need it"  
"Yes, we will have to be on top" replied Virbein, looking sideways.

They got up and grabbed the ladder that went up the technical floors. The other two tidied the table and headed without a word to the resting cells.


	5. In contact

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", main hangar.

The briefing having come to end, the last instructions being given, crews and mechanics go in the main hangar to put on the suits before sailing.

Marks had been drawn on the ground, pilots and gunners came online, back to back in front of their vessel. The mechanics brought them the suits, black for the pilots, gray for the other embarked personnel, and dressed the crews according to a well-ordered ballet.

Due to the number of layers and the complexity of the combinations, this procedure avoided any forgetting and mistakes.

The manoeuvre ran the line from one end to the other. Once the end was reached, the last mechanic signalled to the one at the beginning, and the ritual recommenced. There were five cycles, helmets not included.

Jay and Sam dressed in silence. The beginning of the dressing was in underwear, which was always a pleasant spectacle for the rest of the crew. It had embarrassed her at first, then, with the habit, it had ended up to amusing her.

She thought: "After all, if I do not come back, let them remember at least one last good memory of me"

Sam noticed: "Delightful the pink lace on the panties"  
Jay replied with a broad smile: "We're a fighter, but we're still a woman"

Bras and body clothes were normally standardized standard components, but the command had finally realized that a certain tolerance in customization improved the moral of the troop.

Dressing was going well. First a thin underwear, then the inflatable layer to support the accelerations, the heating layer, the shrapnel guards, finally the combination and its accessories. Each layer was tested by the mechanics who only signalled to the next one if everything was correct. There were three stops, two of which required a replacement of the piece.

Finally, the last layer slipped on, it was the turn of the helmets. At the moment of putting it on, she noticed that she had forgotten her yellow glasses of contrast. These glasses were not obligatory, they were rather small and adjusted, but she used to fly with them. She hesitated. They had to put them on before donning the helmet and then proceed to leak tests, and that would delay the whole line.

Sam felt his hesitation:

"What's going on, Jay?"  
"I forgot my glasses. Never mind, I'll leave without..."  
"Are you sure? It will be in your interest to aim right."

He called out to a hold manoeuvre that was pretending to be busy near them (in truth, especially near Jay).

"Hey corporal!"  
"Yes, Staff Sergeant" replied the stoker.  
"There is a pair of glasses to pick up in the crew quarters. Location..."  
"K27", Jay said.  
"Emplacement K27, a pair of yellow flight glasses. And hurry up!" Sam said.

All we had to do was waiting. For once she was the one blocking the line. Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, the corporal came back out of breath.

"Your glasses" Major, he gasped.  
"Thank you, Corporal" replied Jay, almost tearing them out of his hands.

She pulled the elastic strap and rushed her glasses over her eyes. His mechanic said to him:

"Attention Major, you have stuck a lock of your hair. Wait, I'll clear you out."

He gently lifted the strap and released the wick.

"Here, it's better this way. We can start again."

The helmet was put on, tested, and the line could continue. Finally, the last suit was locked and tested, and the crews boarded their ships.

The SturmRam was a fairly stocky ship specialized in attacking large vessels, frigates and stellar destroyers. It was a bomber at the base, to which the bomb hold had been sealed and four heavy lasers mounted in the nose. The resulting firepower was devastating, but the mass and bulk of the weaponry made the ship unwieldy. The cockpit had to be moved to the top of the fuselage and a rearward pulling turret was added to defend the vessel during the approach manoeuvres. The entire forward section was heavily armoured to withstand the crossfire of frigate defences.

Jay climbed the access ladder, followed by Sam. At the top of the ladder, a small platform provided easy access to the various stations. Sam disappeared through the circular hatch at the top of his turret, and Jay slipped into the cockpit.

Although the SturmRam was a large vessel compared to a standard TIE, the cockpit was very cramped. Visibility was relatively poor due to the thickness of the armoured windows and the uprights, which had significant blind spots. In addition, a huge collimator occupied almost the entire top of the dashboard.

Unlike the pilot, the gunner had wider windows and could see peripherally through a folding periscope at the top of his turret.

Jay, with the help of her mechanic, plugged in the connecting cables of her suit and tried the intercom:

"Sam, do you understand me?"  
"Strong and clear", Sam replied in a stentorian voice.

She smiles. Always the little pre-mission rituals. How long had they been flying together already? She didn't remember very well. She just remembered that he was there when she destroyed her third frigate. They had to abandon their ships and drifted for about ten hours into the open space, the "great black" as they called it, before being recovered by a rescue shuttle. She chased away that memory, and started her checklist.

Finally, the heavy armoured cockpit was lowered, and the thrusters entered into preheating.

* * *

The attack ships had just left the "Destiny Blade", and were in formation. The TIE fighter squadrons stood in front of the SturmRam, which had put itself in wide formation to avoid collisions at the end of the trajectory.

She lives in front of her and her squadron flashes the optical communications between the fighters. First amber, which meant "check your settings", then green to "preheat your booster", and finally red for firing. A pale yellow glow appeared at the back of the ships and a fraction of a second later they were gone.

It was now hers and her squadron's.

She followed the same procedure, amber, green, red... and all the stars merged.

It was then that she felt observed and heard the voices for the first time.

"I think she's very good."  
"Yes... maybe... Still a little too robust, don't you think"  
"For now, you're right. But who knows what the future holds for him?"  
"You've seen it! You saw it! You saw it! Tell me about it!"  
"Come on, if I tell you now, it will alter your judgment. You know that..."

"Are you sulking?"

She felt like she was waking up with a start. Strikes were made against the armoured bulkhead separating the machine gunner from the pilot. She heard Sam's angry and worried voice in her headphones.

"Jay, Jay, what the hell are you doing?! We've been here almost a minute already! Give the order to return to formation!"

She took a quick look through her armoured windows. Indeed, she saw in front of her the hunters who were gathering. The boosters, empty and now useless, had already been dropped. She rushed to the transmitter and flashed the code. Fortunately, the rest of the group had spontaneously started the manoeuvre without waiting for his signal. His delay had no consequences.

She was nervous. It was the first time something like this had ever happened to him. She heard Sam again:

"Are you all right? I was worried. You didn't say anything. I thought it was an oxygen problem."  
"Everything's fine, Sam. We finish the manoeuvre. I'll give the order to activate the jammers."

The code was flashed and passed from ship to ship.

She asked Sam who had a wider field of vision than she did:

"Sam, is the squadron complete?"

A silence.

"Sam, has everyone arrived?"  
"No. We had a collision. S9 and 12 have disappeared. No evacuation."

She clenched her teeth. It started well! They had just lost ten percent of their workforce.

The tight formation was now complete. The assault ships were panels against panels about three metres apart. They formed four superposed lines of five vessels, with two empty spaces, on the second and third lines.

It was now time to head towards Dvar, which was still only a small point among others. She quickly checked her navigation. Everything was fine. In fifteen minutes, they'd be in contact.

* * *

Mark 1 "Sword of Law" Assault Frigate, Front Fire Control Centre, Dvar Space Battle.

As the volume to be monitored around Dvar was large, the two frigates were each patrolling at one end of the system, always ensuring that they were perfectly synchronized. This optimized the surveillance work, but if necessary, it increased the concentration time of the forces.

In fact, it was on the "Sword of Law" that the fate fell. An alert call was immediately sent to the synchronous ship, the "Angel of Mercy", but for three hours, the frigate became the sole dam on which the enemy assault waves had to break. The attack squadron was already taking off from the planet, but it was only about fifteen Y-Wings, because the operations on the planet were essentially tactical. The real hunt was limited to four X-Wings, which was low given the number of echoes observed on the detection screens.

"And the headquarters has taken us out of squadrons for the so-called final offensive!" Thought the rear battery commander. "We could really use it now..."

Finally, the time of regret had passed. We had to face it.

* * *

Imperial squadrons, Dvar space battle.

The imperial formations arrived in close formation for Dvar and his defence system without having seen any activity from the republican formations.

"Light your gun sights!" Announced Jay on the intercom while turning on his own.

His heart stopped beating for a moment. The pale yellow circle remained stubbornly fixed at the bottom left of the reflection glass in the rest position.

Due to the sensitivity of the mechanism, the system had to be locked when jumping into hypervelocity. Perhaps there had been a shock or a wrong move during the big leap? She focused and managed to control her tension. Without a sight, the shot lost all its accuracy.

She turned off the power, counted up to five and turned the power back on. At first she thought it had been useless, then, after two endless seconds, the circle moved, and came lazily, almost with regret, to place itself in the center of the glass. She sighed deeply. Sam heard it through the intercom and asked him:

"Jay, are you okay?"  
"Everything is fine, Sam," she replied. "My viewfinder made a joke on me."

Stress was beginning to rise down. There was still the tension of the fight, but she was used to it.

Sam turned his periscope towards the planet and switched to maximum magnification. He told Jay:

"The frigate is here, it's going into orbit around Dvar."  
"Hunting?" replied Jay.  
"I see three... no, four X-Wings, and a lot of Y-Wings. They are forming a broad formation for interception."

As soon as he had finished his phase, the frigate started firing.

"Shooting from a turbolaser!" he shouted.  
"At this distance, our jammers must be sufficient, provided the training is held", Jay replied. She passed on the general line of the squadron:

"Call to all. The frigate takes us under his turbolaser fire. Keep your cool and stay together! Break the formation only at my order!"  
"Copy that" replied the group leaders.

The compact block of ships continued to advance towards the enemy formation. The frigate's fire became denser, but the jamming was effective and the rays, deformed by the transmitters, spread like rain on a windshield. The distance was decreasing, Jay saw the moment coming to break the formation when suddenly she saw a TIE located on the outskirts of the city go into a corner and leave her place. She immediately pressed the intercom button and gave her orders:

"Squadron Leader to A03-15! Take your place back!"

No answer. Anyway, it was already too late, the TIE had just exploded, hit right in the middle by a luminous line. As the interference became fragmented at the edge of the formation, two other TIEs were also hit by direct fire or shrapnel.

A little longer... The frigate's fire diminished in intensity, the imperial ships entered the interception range. The Republican hunt also progressed. The time had come.

Jay set himself on the general frequency:

"Break the formation! TIE in contact! Assault group in attack line!"

The TIE group broke out like a metal firework and began to attack the Republican fighters. SturRam's group reshaped itself into a long line parallel to the frigate's flank.

* * *

Unlike imperial ships, Republican frigates were equipped with a smaller crew and therefore more automated. The defence turrets were therefore remotely controlled by two firing concentration centres, one at each end of the ship, which during normal operation guided one side each. At his post, the rear gunner was watching his screens and energy gauges.

At first everything went well. The Y-Wings engaged the TIEs in spinning combat and managed to shoot down about two-thirds of them, losing three of their own. The problem was that it had allowed the assault crews to approach the frigate. In attack formation on a single line, they approached the frigate without worrying about the Y and X-Wings who were harassing them.

The gunne sawr happily a SturmRam burst under the gust of a T70, which in turn exploded under the crossfire of the imperial machine gunners. His satisfaction had been short-lived.

He swore in front of his screens: "What the hell are they doing at the base!"

The assault TIE line was closing in, and the frigate's defence turrets opened fire.

Just at that moment, a huge line of light gushed out of the planet and vaporized half of SturmRam's line.

"At last! They've made up their minds!" Says the gunner.


	6. The last burst

SturmRam S0-15 "Valkyrie", crew Jay Hawkers-Sam Lore, space battle of Dvar.

Jay, in the middle of the attack line, saw a great gleam and then his ship was knocked over and left in a succession of fast barrels. She regained control, but was completely off-centre with respect to the frigate.

"An ion cannon!" She shouts at Sam. "They have a hell of a joker up their sleeve! Sam, how's the formation coming?"

"There are only three of us left. There are still S17 and 20. But they're threatened by three T70s."

Jay hesitated. She had to reserve her heavy ammunition for the frigate. If she was going to help the other SturmRams, it could only be with Sam's weapons, and she herself could be hit.

She decided.

"Sam, we're going on the attack. Our objective is the frigate, and only the frigate."

She manoeuvred to refocus on her target and began her first shooting pass.

* * *

Republican base of "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

The command room of the Republican base was located in a semi-buried shelter in the middle of the compound. There had been a tense calm since space sensors reported an enemy squadron heading for Dvar.

Upon reporting, the base was put on alert, tactical operations against the imperials were suspended, and all interceptors took off.

Around the table of cards, four officers stood bent over.

"Have we heard from the "Sword of Law"?" Asked the commander.  
"The engagement has begun, replied the detection manager. For the moment it's going well, the enemy losses are very high, for what we see on our screens. I no longer have any phone contact with them, they're too busy"

The intelligence officer spoke:

"No cruiser detected?"  
"Nothing," replied the detection officer. "They must have used their single-use booster, but we're not sure. They jammed our sensors as soon as they entered our system."  
"All this way for a battle without return... what else can make them move forward? "  
"They have never been disbanded yet" said the commander. "So far, we have only recovered a handful of deserters"

The intelligence officer approved without a word.

* * *

SturmRam S0-15 "Valkyrie", crew Jay Hawkers-Sam Lore, space battle of Dvar.

The first pass was over. Jay swung the rudder to the left, engaging the vessel into drift and then a harsh impulse from the stick, still to the left to divert the defensive fire. Sam didn't shoot, disoriented by the manoeuvres. The ship is making a big turn to get back into attack position. Sam had started shooting again at the T70s who had followed them inside, but they were soon going to stall so as not to expose themselves to the frigate's defensive fire.

Jay aligned the target in the reticule of his sights. The distance decreased rapidly, the shooting time did not exceed five seconds and then it was necessary to pass over or under to avoid the collision. His ship vibrated under a few impacts, small caliber. Good distance, shooting OK, impacts on and around the central defense turret, pushing the stick, going under, rudder, stick, she recited, but the turret although emitting combustion gases had still not exploded.

"But damn it, when was gonna blow this damn turret?" This was the vulnerable point of these ships, if it exploded there, the blast was channelled through the recharging ducts and the ship broke in two. She had already practiced this manoeuvre several times, as evidenced by the silhouettes painted on the cabin.

The intercom crackled in his helmet.

"Jay, rear shield down, thirty degrees," "Loss of lateral propulsion," Sam said to him in a calm voice. A quick glance at the warning panel on the right console reassured her: nothing serious so far. She replied: "Nothing serious. Let's go back."  
"Are you sure? We're going to go back to the same place, the same angle! They had time to settle their shots."  
"Shut up! We don't have time to finish! The transporters are coming and if the Reps are still there in force it will be a carnage!"

Sam didn't answer anything. He was too busy shooting two of the T70s who had already killed S17 and 20 and who must have understood too. They approached at full risk, and Jay had to shake the aircraft further to upset the pursuers' fire. The frigate grows up in the small front window. She warned Sam:

"Stable in three seconds"

It meant: get ready, line up your cannons, in three seconds we'll be vulnerable.

Finally, the target fits perfectly into the pale yellow circle of the reticule. The turret was no longer moving. This will be his last pass, the energy meter of the guns was already in the yellow, there would soon be only the defensive weapons left. Sam didn't say anything anymore.

Her right thumb pulled the trigger.

* * *

The rear gunner of the "Sword of Law" jumped in front of his screens. A siren had just pulsed and red flashes were smearing its screens. He quickly looked at the information displayed, and saw that the power lines of the central batteries were stalling. If this were to happen, the frigate would lose a third of its defences.

He passed over the intercom and called the forward fire control station. It was perhaps still possible to make a derivation.

No answer.

He tried twice more, without any more success. Either the internal line was cut off or the front station had been destroyed.

There was therefore no alternative. The bypass had to be done on site, directly in the energy distribution cabinets. He put on his helmet, opened the airlock of his station and started running in the upper corridor.

He entered the technical section of the central turret at the precise moment when Jay was making his second pass.

* * *

The firing of the SturmRam's heavy lasers was devastating. Although this part was shielded, the explosion devastated half the enclosures and connections. The gunner, who had just opened a distribution box, saw an intense light followed by a huge impact on his left side which threw him against the wall. However, he did not lose consciousness.

He was lying on his stomach, pressed against the access airlock. He tried to get up and wanted to lean on his hands. He straightened up sideways, his left side sticking to the ground. He looked at his left shoulder more carefully and realized that his arm had been torn off in the middle of the biceps. The automatic withers of his suit had swollen and prevented a fatal hemorrhage.

He grabbed the door handle with his right hand and managed to stand up again. He could only stay on his right leg, a terrible pain would twist as soon as he leaned on his left foot. But he could still move.

He set off for the gun access ladder.

He finally reached the ladder and started climbing. It was difficult; he had to climb up step by step, alternately using his arm and then his valid leg. He finally arrived at the shooting post and claudiated to the manual shooting stand.

The turret was riddled with shrapnel and depressurized. It was not a problem; his suit had half an hour's autonomy, which was too much for the circumstances.

He unfolded the seat from the manual shooting stand and sat on it, which almost made him unconscious as the pain was so intense. He lifted the cover of the manual fire control and looked through the riflescope.

He clearly saw a SturmRam lined up in front of his gun. He aligned the turret with the pointing controls. "They still work", he said to himself with relief. The distance indications were displayed at the bottom of the cross. When the numbers go green, he could trigger the shot.

The numbers went from red to yellow. He was concentrating as best he could, but realized that his field of vision was narrowing. His eye circulated from numbers to reticle, from reticle to numbers...

He guessed more than he saw the value finally go green, Feeling he pressed the firing control, and entered into the light.

* * *

The Shock was so violent that Sam's head hit hard the headrest on the wall that separated the machine gunner from the pilot.

In his headphones, he heard:

"Sam! Sam! I'm blind! Lead me!"

The beginning of the sentence was shouted in a high-pitched voice, that of panic. The last words were already clearer, as if she had already regained control of the situation. Sam answered immediately, without even taking the time to unfold his periscope:

"Climb Jay! Climb! Climb!"

No answer, but the ship's nose began to rise, as the frigate became visible through the side windows of the firing station. Sam stiffened up, waiting for the collision.

Miraculously, the last pass had been the right one, and the frigate was beginning to fall apart. The SturmRam passed through a cloud of fragmented metal and flue gas. Sam heard the impacts on the cabin, like a bag of logs ripped open on a tile. Finally, the ship came out of the combustion halo, dented, the smoky but still functional coating.

Sam shouted: "To neutral Jay! Neutral! Neutral! "

If the stick remained pulled, the ship would describe a complete looping and return to the furnace. The nose went down, the SturmRam was now moving away in a straight line from the frigate being fragmented.

But the engagement was far from over; the machine gunner immediately realized it.

The two X-Wings had not abandoned the pursuit and must have been mad with rage at the destruction of the frigate. Already, the leader was lining up on the axis of his target, his wingman on the right a little behind.

"Jay, two T70s at six o'clock!"

No answer.

Sam took control of his twin laser guns, and fired a short burst at the leader to disrupt his approach. The T70 dodged with a small dry roll, while its wingman began to frame the imperial ship with a precise shot.

"They're staring at me", Sam said, "Not armless these two guys..."

He pulled everything he could, but the X-Wings' shields could take it without flinching. The two T70s approached without firing.

"They don't want to waste their energy", Sam thought. "It's time for the kill..."

He called:

"Jay, they're here, hard left!"

He had spoken without conviction, because the SturmRam being much less manoeuvrable than the X-Wings, no more evasive manoeuvres were effective at this distance. Without thinking, he pointed his lasers slightly to the left to anticipate the manoeuvre, and prepared for the shot, certainly his last action.

He suddenly saw the thrust reversers louves deploy all at once. The ship had just gone backwards.

The two Republican pilots, surprised, overtook their target, the leader from below, and his flanker from above, just on the edge of the collision.

The nose of the SturmRam lowered, a brief laser burst made the ship vibrate then it immediately rose for a second burst, extremely short, followed by the dry snap of the switches. The main ammunition had just been gone.

The complete action had been so fast that Sam, plated by the power of the brakes on his armoured plate, wondered if he hadn't been dreaming. He saw the louves close again and felt that we were moving forward again.

From his position, he was unable to see the result of this manoeuvre. He called Jay:

"Jay, what happened? Did you plan this?"  
"Sam, where are we? Where's Dvar? Give me the course!"

Sam unfolded the his periscope, and started looking for the planet. At first he did not see her, which significantly increased his stress.

"Jay, roll right, 100."

The ship bowed obediently. "How could she do that if she couldn't see anything?"

Sam took up his periscope again. Finally, he saw it. The Sturmram had moved away from the planet during the battle and pursuit.

"Jay, right yaw 60" The ship turned and slowly aligned itself towards its objective.  
"That's good, now pitch -20"

The nose plunged gently.

"Perfect. You're the best! Full throttle now!"

The acceleration was modest, but the ship now had a purpose, it was no longer a helpless wreck.

No trace of the two T70s. Sam didn't doubt that Jay hit both. The cine-lasers would say it anyway, provided of course that the ship is brought back in one piece...

He then called:

"Jay, how are you doing?"  
"Sam, call the transporters. Tell them the way is free but there's an ion cannon on the planet. Let them adapt their..."

Nothing left.

Panic invades Sam. He almost screamed:

"Jay! Jay! What's going on? Answer me!"  
"Sam..." the voice was clear, but deafened, distant... "I'm at the end... I'm going to autoback... Authorization of deserting"

Sam felt his throat knotting. Deserting authorization! This was the official sentence of the imperial fleet for the evacuation of a sinking ship. He was free to leave his turret, to flee without being accused of abandoning his post. It was simple:

All you had to do was lower the red lever, the top of the turret would then detach in silence. Then disconnect the connection cables, activate the survival mode of his suit and slide out. He would then have accompanied the ship until the retro-rockets of his suit were activated, which would have immobilized him in the middle of space to make it easier to locate.

If he did this, he would drift into space with an oxygen and heating autonomy of about twelve hours, which was enough to be captured by Republican rescue units (because under the circumstances, it was not necessary to rely too much on the Empire to organize a recovery sweep).

But to do that was to abandon Jay. The ship would automatically head for the nearest planet and land completely autonomous. But then what? Would she be able to evacuate? Join the imperial lines? It just wasn't conceivable.

Not for a single second did he think of leaving his pilot.


	7. The first fall

Rudy Hasse, T70's NCO pilot, was completely amazed by the manoeuvre of his target. In the state where the SturmRam was, perforated, dented and all its coating stripped by the explosion of the frigate, it seemed impossible to him that the game they were chasing could still bite.

He pulled on the stick to avoid the collision and stayed on his path, which was a huge mistake.

The front of his ship was lifted by an explosion out of his field of vision then he felt the back of his X-Wing rise in turn, while impacts resonated on his back armor plate.

He then had the feeling that his ship was going crazy, his whole cabin was just blinking, sirens of all frequencies while the stick that had escaped his hands seemed to have an autonomous life.

He concentrated, and grabbed the handle as one grabs a snake around the neck. The controls were very soft, as if there was nothing left around the cabin. He then focused on the lights on the right console, to understand that he had both lower thrusters on fire. He nervously pressed a sequence of buttons, and most of the red lights turned orange.

The ship was becoming controllable again. He turned the trim wheel to pitch up fully, but even so he still had to pull on the stick to raise the nose of the T70.

He thought: "The return will be sporting" .

No more hunting again. The target had disappeared from its visual field, and its firing radar was out of service, as the generators were destroyed by the burst. He had to redirect his remaining batteries to the control centre, and still had half an hour of power to return.

He lined up Dvar in his collimator and began his atmospheric re-entry procedure.

* * *

Before she shut up, Jay had switched the ship to autoback mode. It was the last chance device to automatically return a ship to the first planet near its trajectory. This system was unable to distinguish a telluric planet from a gaseous planet, a star or a black hole. It only worked by direct measurement of attraction forces.

Sam saw the small ceramic wind turbines appear at the end of the panels. They were to be used to maintain the vessel's attitude when re-entered in the atmosphere of Dvar.

"That's gone" he thought. "I hope I don't come across a marauding Reps fighter or the ion gun doesn't wake up"

He gave his periscope a panoramic tour. Nothing left. Anyway, there was now a large belt of debris forming around Dvar.

"It's going to be hard to tell anything from the ground, he thought. We won't be detected until the end, like a falling meteorite. I'm safe for a while."

Another problem was that he didn't know where he was going to land. Maybe right in the middle of the Reps base. That would make things a lot easier, that's for sure.

The ship was closing in on the planet at a very fast pace. He saw the pink plasma halo starting to form around the wind turbines.

"Goddamn it, the message! » He suddenly remembered. We had to hurry now, because the ionized gases would block the radio waves. He adjusted his transmitter and sent a long message with the recordings of his sensors. With this data, the carriers would be able to predict the location of the ion cannon and program an avoidance course.

In response, he received the acknowledgement code. His mission had just ended.

Now it's just a matter of time, he figured.

He'd stopped thinking about Jay on the other side of the bulkhead. A great fatalism was overwhelming him. It wasn't indifference or detachment, but right now he couldn't do anything. Once he hit the ground, it will be a different story. He closed his eyes and began to drowsy.

* * *

Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

A telephone rang in one of the offices around the central room, the map room. A curtain opened and a junior officer entered, approached the commander and spoke to him without raising his voice. The commander nodded his head and returned to the chart table.

The intelligence officer was about to open his mouth, but the commander was quicker:

"The "Sword of Law" has just been destroyed".  
"How ? And why did our ion cannon fire only once?"  
"The assault vessel that attacked it had come between the cannon and the frigate. If it fired, it would destroy both."  
"Clever" Replied the officer. "Where are we with the Angel of Mercy?"  
"She'll be on top of us in a couple of hours. They're pushing the engines."  
"What are our losses?"  
"Two X-Wings and five Y-Wings. The squadrons are in the process of atmospheric re-entry," replied the space operations officer.

"I'm having them refuelled to send them back to orbital standby."  
"No, keep them on base" replied the commander. "We don't have many left, and they should only be used for sure. The "Angel of Mercy" will do the standby job and will still be able to attack from space. Have the repairs made and the crews rest."

"Do we have any information from the fleet?" Get the intelligence officer back.  
"It's very confusing" Answered the detection officer. "They're busy chasing a destroyer that passed under their noses in Kuat, and apparently they're not interested in us. All they could tell me was that the destroyer was indeed carrying a squadron of assault TIEs, which is unusual. That's certainly the squadron we just fought against."

"And that we wiped out," replied the intelligence officer.

* * *

Sam was pulled out of his drowsiness by a swaying sensation of the SturmRam. They were already well into Dvar's upper atmosphere, he could see it with a pale red halo that began to stretch around the protruding parts of the ship. But something was wrong.

He looked out the windows of his turret. On the left, everything was normal. The wind turbine was turning, dragging behind it a small spiral of fire. The same on the right. To be able to see below, he unfolded the bombing periscope. Although not applicable to assault ships, it had been kept after the conversion of the TIE/sa to SturmRam. He panned the periscope and began his observation of the lower planes of the ship.

Right side OK. But on the left side, he saw that the fourth wind turbine had been destroyed during the battle. Only a stump was sticking out of the hatch. As the device had lost a quarter of its information, the re-entry pitch could not be maintained.

He had the explanation, but not the solution. One could only hope that this degraded case had been taken into account by the engineers of the space sites.

He thought back to Jay. Suddenly he thought that if his frontal shielding had been punctured, the plasma would fry her on descent. He was tempted to increase the inertial pressure, but if the suit had been perforated, it could have suffocated her. He could also put in more oxygen, but if there were short circuits in the cockpit, everything could catch fire.

For a while he didn't know which decision to make, each with its advantages and disadvantages. Finally, he decided to not touch anything.

The flames lengthened, the oscillation was maintained but not increased. The ship began to vibrate under the dynamic pressure.

The moment of truth, Sam thought.

The flames now completely enveloped the SturmRam. The tremor became more powerful. The temperature began to rise in the cabin. He had already made atmospheric re-entry, but this one promised to be special among all of them.

The heat increased again. The initial vibration had gradually given way to a muffled rumble, as if the ship was breathing and blowing under the strain. This lasted several minutes, then very gradually the noise and vibration decreased. The SturmRam had re-entered Dvar's atmosphere and was flying through the air.

The altitude was decreasing rapidly. The ship passed through a layer of clouds, and the ground became visible. Sam felt a vibration under his feet. He understood what was happening and said to himself:

"The reels of the altitude probes"

He breathed. The ship was still oscillating, but it was apparently controllable by the system. Everything was fine.

The autoback was using four cables weighted with an anchor to detect the proximity of the ground and trigger the landing flares. As soon as one of the anchors touched the ground, the wire would break, the reel would detect it and start the ignition procedure.

The ground was getting closer and closer. He could now see the SturmRam's stocky shadow scroll across the ground, like a ghost chasing its past.

The ground, the ghost, the ship, everything finally came together, and the hissing of the solid rocket boosters began to sound.

"The cables have touched" Sam thought to himself. "Only a hundred more metres and it'll all be over".

It all went very fast then. He heard a muffled explosion and then saw through the windows of his turret the sky turning until he saw a grey, wavy ground, then the sky again...

He was being tossed from one bulkhead to another, completely disoriented, like during centrifuge training he had to endure at the space school... A big shock, like a sudden stop, and everything came to a standstill. He came to his senses, looked again through his armoured tiles, and found that the ship had landed crookedly, with a strong right list. It's a good thing it didn't turn over completely, Sam thought to himself.

There was a dreadful din in the cockpit. Clattering, crackling, hissing of gas from broken hoses... smoke was beginning to appear through the cracks in the floor. We've got to get out of here, and fast. The thought occurred to me. He raised his arm, lowered the red lever, heard the locks click... but the hatch didn't move.

The frame must have been bent in the crash, he thought. He leaned on the breeches of his weapons, and pressed with all his strength with his back and helmet on the lid without more result.

"But you'll give in, damn door!" he cried. In the grip of animal rage, he pressed down on his supports and got up with all his strength, using his helmet as a ram. The hatch suddenly gave way, swung to the side, and he found himself a little stunned in the open air. He took off his helmet and threw it overboard.

He leaned against the edge of the turret and hurriedly removed his hands. The surface was hot. He plunged back into the cabin that was beginning to fill with smoke, took his spacewalking gloves and blaster and then climbed up and out of the turret.

He crawled on his hands and knees on the back of the ship to reach the cockpit. He reached the armoured windshield and was relieved to see that it was not punctured. The armoured glass was opaque, all white and fragmented, the uprights were deformed, but the whole thing had held. He backed up, bent down and used the stock of his blaster to break the glass of the cockpit opening control. He reached the release ring and pulled it quickly.

Nothing happened.

A symmetrical device was placed on the other side of the cockpit. He followed the same procedure for the same result. The aft section of the ship was beginning to crackle. Sam fought the panic.

He then recalled that the armoured cockpits were equipped with an explosive charge on the main hinge. This charge was triggered by the pilot in the event of an emergency evacuation. He looked at the hinge to find out where to fire. Fortunately, there were still a few traces of red paint to locate the location. Sam stepped back, raised his blaster and aimed between the marks.

"If it's bulletproof, Jay's lost" he thought to himself as he pulled the trigger. The blast was surprisingly loud and a few splinters whistled in Sam's ears.

The hinge was gone, but the cockpit was still in place. Sam, straddling the fairing, leaned over and pushed a shot to the side. The heavy armoured canopy moved a little, then jammed.

"It's all warped", Sam thought to him. "Damn it, it's urgent!"

He pushed again. The cockpit moved a little more.

I don't have a plug, he thought. With the weight, I'll never be able to tip it over.

An idea came to him. He unfolded the starboard side steps and moved to the side for more strength. He then inserted the barrel of his blaster into the space between the canopy and the edge of the cockpit and used it as a lever.

He thought: "Given what I do to my weapon, if I meet a Reps patrol I'll just have to offer to them flowers"

He was finally able to raise and lower the canopy. The fire was beginning to rage. He threw his blaster, now unusable, bent down and looked inside the cockpit.

The collimator was gone, as well as the entire top of the dashboard. He also noticed that the headrest was shredded and that the armoured bulkhead was riddled with shrapnel. A collapsed shape was tied across the seat with one of the shoulder straps having been severed.

We had to move quickly. He leaned in, disconnected the communication cables, the tubes of the respirator, and then fumbled at the belly to free the straps that were still holding the pilot to the seat. He found the central buckle, turned it a quarter turn, and felt as if the shape was still tucked in.

He descended even lower, grabbed the shape under his arms and pulled it out of the cockpit. He then placed it on his right shoulder and moved backwards towards the back of the ship to get closer to the ground. He couldn't get very far because the heat was getting intense. He stretched out his legs and let her slide down the fuselage to try to cushion the shock of the landing.

He found himself lying on his back the whole way down in the mud without having let go of Jay. We had to hurry now. He got up, secured his pilot on his shoulder, and started to run straight ahead of him on the muddy ground.

He ran away from the ship as fast as he could. A high-pitched whistle was heard. Sam knew that characteristic sound: the sound of an over pressurized tank. As soon as the whistle ended, the explosion would follow. He put Jay down as gently as he could, leaned on her without leaning, and covered his ears. The hot blast enveloped him, fortunately attenuated by the side panels that had acted as a deflector.

"My first stroke of luck on this mission" Sam thought to himself.

He got up and couldn't mask a sudden burst of surprise.

In front of him, four Stormtroopers were slowly emerging from the mud.


	8. The black circle

Their equipment was incomplete, two had no helmets, the third was bare arms, the fourth had no leggings. They all wore a sort of long hooded poncho, the same dull grey colour as the mud from which they emerged.

A quick glance at the helmets immediately informed him: a black circle was painted at the top and it was the mark of the damned of the penal sections, the dregs of the Empire.

One of the helmets took aim at him and hailed him in a curt voice: "Where did you come from, you bastard? Hands up where I can see them!"

The bare-armed one added: "You came to bomb us, didn't you?"

Sam saw a red rag and replied: "You morons!"

He wiped his left sleeve to show his identification marks.

"And this you've never seen maybe? I'm an imperial like you!"

The one who was without a helmet and who seemed to be the leader then made a quick sign. The blaster went down.

The bare-armed trooper added: "Your ship was no longer recognizable; we thought it was a captured bomber."

At this point the rag pile that Jay had become began to twitch and cough. Everybody looked on and Sam hurried out of there to take control.

"This officer's wounded, get a stretcher and get him to the dressing station! Execute!"

What followed surprised Sam. In a jiffy, two ponchos were assembled, Jay was put on top, and then the four troopers grabbed one sleeve in each corner. For disciplinary troops, they were pretty effective.

The chief looked at Jay before giving the order to lift. He didn't say anything, but it was worse than if he had spoken. Sam had seen his look, but he was so tired and anxious that he didn't say anything either.

"We mustn't dawdle" said one of the troopers. "The smoke is protecting us for now, but a Reps sniper could have bad thoughts"

They walked quietly, Sam next to the team leader. Finally he decided to talk.

"How much further to the aid station?"  
"There's no first aid post"  
"How? But where are we going then?"  
"There's a surgeon in the north redoubt. That's where we're going"  
"A surgeon? That's all? No operating room, no med module?"

The chief turned his head.

"At the beginning of the battle, the med unit was blown up with the medics and a hundred wounded. It's said that we hadn't anticipated that the Reps would bring in heavy lasers as soon as the assault began"

Silence again.

Sam continued: "How much further?"  
"About ten minutes" replied one of the helmets in the back. "That's the advantage of losing ground, you get around faster."

Sam couldn't help smiling, although a little mirthless laughter.

The helmet man hadn't lied. After the announced time, they encountered a trench and went down a stairway inside by a coarsely cut planks. The casing was deserted.

Sam asked a little surprised :"Are there no sentries?"  
"No need here. The area where you crashed is covered by two support points. You're lucky we were there in recognition"  
"Normally we shoot first and talk later" added the bare-armed one.  
"Ah! We're coming" said the chief.

The trench bent to the left, Sam let the stretcher pass and then took the bend in his turn.

There he stopped, stunned by the spectacle. Too many things had just appeared simultaneously for his comprehension.

The trench led to a rectangular courtyard of about twenty by ten metres. Just opposite, four ramps were descending to buried shelters, which were enclosed by translucent plastic sheeting. Trenches came from all over the sides. But it wasn't the place that flabbergasted Sam, it was what was in it.

The place was crowded of wounded people. Some on stretchers, the lucky ones or the bad ones, he couldn't have known; the others on tarpaulins, or directly on the ground. The smell was terrible, a mixture of dirt, droppings and rot. There were had so many wounded that the trenches led to narrow paths, like trails on a meadow. The four carriers had to contort themselves and push a few limbs to move forward.

They finally reached the ramps and descended to the third one.

Sam asked: "You said something about a surgeon and there are four shelters?"

The chief said, "There is an underground corridor, he goes from one room to another to operate. The nurses do everything else"

Sam started to feel really bad. The tension of the battle, of everything that had happened since the mothership left was starting to weigh in. He was not in his world; he had already proven himself, faced danger, but not this one. And above all, he was thinking only of his pilot.

The tarp was spread. They went into a tunnel, because there was daylight in the distance. Right in the middle of it, a male nurse was sitting on an old ammunition crate. The four troopers put Jay on the ground and then pulled the ponchos apart.

"What's that for?" barked the nurse in a surly tone.

Sam answered quickly: "This officer is wounded". "He was shot in the face and needs urgent attention"  
"Yeah? It's a shame, there are only wounded here"

He approached Sam and recognized his flight suit.

"But you're in the Imperial Fleet! No kidding? This is the first time we've seen you in six months! What the fuck? What the hell were you doing when we were being bombed?"

Sam stiffens up. "Insult me as long as you want but at least look at my pilot!"

Strangely, that answer made the medic hesitate. Sam thought to himself: "He must have been expecting a point of order".

The trooper chief intervened: "Okay, Anton, don't piss me off. They didn't come all this way here to pick flowers. Move your ass and take a look"

Anton looked at the chief and said :"Okay, okay, step aside, we'll see about that"

He approached the shape lying on the ground, began to open the suit at chest level and had a startle of surprise.

"Jeez, it's a woman! "

Sam replied: "Yes, it's a woman pilot, and she's just demolished the frigate that was watching you"

One of the troopers added in a mocking tone: "Maybe this will motivate you, you big pig!"

The medic grabbed Jay's neck, took off his flying boots, took a pair of scissors out of his pocket and scratched under the soles of both of her feet. He also consulted the medical display on the right forearm of the suits.

"She immediately cut off her morphine to stay lucid until the end" He read. "It takes a hell of a lot of guts to think about that."

He finally got up and said:

"She's breathing. It's not brilliant, but there's no spinal damage. We have to clean her up quickly the trachea"

He glanced at the crushed visor.

"We'll have to cut the helmet off. As for his face and eyes, I can't say anything now"

Sam asked: "When can you operate?"

The nurse is thinking.

"It's been pretty quiet lately. There are four critically injured prepared, plus five minor waiting. Given the time surgeon's rest, tomorrow morning"  
"Will that pass?"  
"Yeah"  
"She's not likely to get worse?"  
"No. No problem. We'll intubate and put her on a monitor. We'll cut the helmet off at the last minute, just before the operation"

Sam thought: "Tomorrow morning, it'll all be over"

One of the troopers intervened: "We trust you, for rotten flesh you're a specialist"

The nurse turned around and whistled a loud. Two assistants appeared out of nowhere.

"Get a stretcher and take her to the second corridor. The surgeon will come by to see her"

The two assistants disappeared into the darkness without a word.

The chief turned to Sam.

"There's nothing more we can do for her. I know Anton, he's got a pig temper, but he's good in his job. We're going to go make our report"  
"Okay, I'm right behind you, I have a report to make, too"

The troopers retrieved their weapons and ponchos, drew the curtain and went out, accompanied by Sam.

* * *

The first voice says: "Isn't she gorgeous?"  
"She's mutilated, spoiled, banal" answered the second.  
"It's all the better for what we expect of her. A wounded beast is all the more ferocious"  
"Hum…"  
"You're not saying anything? Would you admit I'm right?"  
"It's your idea. I have my reservations, but for now I trust you"


	9. Tracks and trenchs

Sam followed the group through a maze of trenches. He would have been quite unable to say where he came from and where he was going.

He spoke to the trooper right in front of him:

"The medic said it was quiet and there were wounded all over. What happens when it's not quiet?"  
"It's the same thing", replied the soldier. "When it slams, we treat as best we can the wounded in the trenches, and we only bring back to the aid station those who can still fight"

"Because where the trooper is..." One of the soldiers cried out.  
"He's dying!" They all replied in a loud voice and laughed.

They had just come out of another, smaller square. The entrance to a shelter opened on their right, a seedling in arms watching the entrance. The chief approached the seedling and announced:

"Ci-devant Sergeant Julius Mansour reporting for duty"

Sam added: "Staff Sergeant Sam Lore reporting for duty!"

He noted that here the orders of the penal divisions were strictly enforced. Men of the rank were referred to by their former rank, to remind them of their forfeiture.

A voice resounded inside: "Send them in!"

The sentry moved aside, and they entered the gut, while the three remaining troopers laid down their weapons and sat in suits against the edge of the square.

It took some time for his eyes to get used to the dim light that lit up the gently sloping corridor. After about ten metres they reached a small room occupied by a desk and a staff captain. Sam thought to himself: "It seemed as if they couldn't exist without each other"

They marked the three steps of respect and saluted.

The officer ordered in a calm voice: "Rest"

"Report of the late Sergeant…"

The officer interrupted him.

"All right, Julius, stop this bullshit. What did you see?"  
"They're regrouping their forces for the final assault" He moved closer to the table, leaned over the map, pointing to dots next to the red and blue lines blocking it.

"Here, there, and there again"

The officer thoughtfully said: "This will interest the general..."

"And the heavy equipment?"  
"Not seen. They're suspicious of our batteries, in my opinion. They've certainly concentrated it a little behind, ready to serve when the first line is cleared"

At that moment, a door opened on the right and the general commanding the place entered.

Sam and the chief stood at attention.

The general said: "Rest!"

The staff captain turned to the general.

"It's all right, I heard" replied the general. "We'll take a look at it"

He turned his head and saw Sam, who hadn't said a word until then.

"And you, Staff Sergeant, where did you come from?"  
"I'm a member of the assault fleet, a gunner in the second shock squadron. My unit was in charge of clearing the way for the three troop carriers sent to you as reinforcements"  
"What's the timing?"

Sam looked at his watch.

"They must have come out of hyperspeed by now. They'll be on you in about half an hour"  
"How many men?"  
"About six hundred"  
"Heavy weapons ?"  
"Ten E-Webs and about 30 PTL missile launchers"

The two senior officers looked at each other without saying a word. The general finally broke the silence.

"And what are you doing here? Where's your ship and your pilot?"  
"My ship crashed near your lines, where I was picked up by the sergeant here. My pilot was wounded and is currently being cared for in your..." He hesitated at the word. "Hospital", he said at last.

"You've become an infantryman by force of circumstance" said the captain. "It was Julius who picked you up, so it's logical that you'll be integrated into his squad as well as your pilot when he gets back on his feet"

Sam hesitated. The captain noticed and asked him.

"A problem, Staff Sergeant?"  
"It's just that my pilot's a major, Captain" replied Sam.  
"Well" said the commander without moving.  
"So what about it?" Asked the captain in turn.  
"I doubt if the regulations of the Imperial Fleet stipulate that a major must report to a sergeant, who is also a member of the penal sections" replied Sam, frozen in a spotless guard.

The captain looked Sam squarely in the eye and spoke to him in a very calm voice:  
"Chief Sergeant, (he pressed the rank), you should know that in "New Massada", rank has no value. The only thing that counts is competence in combat. If you or your Major prove yourself, we will reconsider the matter"

"Good, concludes the general. It has all been said. You're integrated into the "Rodina" battery of which Julius is the leader, as well as your pilot when he's ready to join you. That's all, gentlemen, you may go"

Julius and Sam saluted, turned their heels and walked toward the light...

* * *

Jay still couldn't see or feel his face, which was beginning to weigh like a foreign thing on his head. Suddenly she began to

perceive a vibration that spread through the bones of her skull. Something changed in her ears, and suddenly she began to hear.

A calm and calm voice said to her:

"Don't try to talk, Major, it might hurt you. If you can hear me knock for yes"

She taps her left index finger.

"Fine" said the voice again. "We're going to agree on a code, you and I. One hit for yes, two hits for no. Is that understood?"

One hit.

"You're a Republic's pilot?"

Two strikes.

"Perfect! We just cut your helmet off, now we just have to get rid of anything that sticks to your face. It's going to hurt, but it's important that you don't move around so you don't make it worse. Is that all right?"

One shot.

"Relax, Major, we're about to begin"

She was anything but relaxed. She waited.

Suddenly the pain came, enormous, seeping into every nook and cranny of her head. She found no point of comparison, no image to describe it. She screamed. The pain stopped immediately, and she heard the voice again, still calm but a little curt:

"Major, be quiet! We have barely begun! We need to take off your visor. Do you understand?"

What could she do? Resigned, she struck a blow.

And the pain returned, and returned again, and she screamed and screamed again, until unconsciousness enveloped her in its veil of mercy.

* * *

Biem Hoa Republican base.

Rudy Hasse had just put his damaged T70 on the E7 site of the "Biem Hoa" astroport, central base of the republic on Dvar. It was located approximately at the antipodes of "New Massada" in order to minimize the possibility of shooting or direct attack of the imperial base.

Location E7 was reserved for emergency landings. It was therefore equipped with two additional ramps for emergency landings. In operation, two speeder trucks were always on standby, one with fire extinguishers, the other with a clearance team and a doctor.

He opened his cockpit. A corporal ran up and leaned the descent ladder against the side of the aircraft. Meanwhile, the other team was spraying what was left of its lower thrusters to prevent the fire from starting.

He turned off the main power, disconnected the jumper cables from his suit and descended.

The liaison officer, who made specially the trip, asked directly: "Where did the Commodore go?"

"In heat and light" replied Rudy tacitly. "We've been properly poached"  
"Hum.…"  
"Jeez, I don't know who we were up against, but..."  
"That's all right, save your breath for the report" the liaison officer interrupted. "You're going to need it"

Meanwhile, two technicians were removing the tapes from the cinelasers. He climbed into the clearance speeder with the liaison officer and set off for HQ.

The speeder parked in front of the prefabs at headquarters. Rudy and the officer got off without a word, followed by the technicians who left them for the intelligence bungalows.

They pushed open the doors and went straight into the conference room. The commander of the place was there on the platform with the chief of intelligence and the detection officer. Rudy and the liaison officer saluted.

"Rest" said the General. "Rudy, make your report"  
"We chased their assault ships, but we couldn't prevent the destruction of the Sword of Law. During the engagement, the commodore was shot down, and I was hit, but more lightly"  
"Is this the same ship that destroyed our frigate and shot you down?"  
"Yes sir. They probably ran out of ammunition. Its last burst was for me and it was very short"  
An unpleasant silence fell down in the room. Rudy told himself that they all thought the same thing: That it would have been better for the Commodore and not him to have received this last salvo. If only it had gone below and not the other way around...

"They don't have a lot of pilots able of doing that sort of thing", said the intelligence officer thoughtfully.

At that moment, a messenger framed himself in the door.

He announced: "The special patrol is back!"

The general replied immediately: "Let it come in"

Three men entered the room. They wore the same dull grey poncho as the imperials, a thick scarf around their necks. One of them had released his arms, and on his left sleeve was the star scorpion, the badge of the LSSS.

The one who had come in first spoke:

"We pushed a reconnaissance where their SturmRam had crashed", he said.  
"Why this particular ship?" asked the intelligence officer.  
"Only three Imperial ships have made re-entry" replied the intelligence officer. "One disabled TIE crashed in the inland sea, another landed near our northern forward point, the pilot has been captured and is now being transferred. This assault TIE is the last"

"Okay, go on", take over the general.

"The ship had exploded ten minutes before we got here. It was still burning. We got as close as we could, and we saw there were no bodies inside"  
"So they were able to evacuate", said the detection officer.  
"Better than that", said the scout again. "We found tracks around the ship on the Imperial side. One of the crew ran for cover carrying the other, as evidenced by the depth of the footsteps. After that, there are many footprints. They must have been picked up by a patrol"

"Ten minutes away!" sighed the intelligence officer.  
"Good", said the general, "you did a good job, go and rest"

The third scout, a sergeant who had been silent until then and had kept his arms under his poncho, spoke without being invited.

"That is not all"

He then took out from under his poncho a half-burnt imperial officer's jacket.

"All imperial ships have a small luggage compartment, in which the crew puts their basic necessities in case of a diversion, he said with a wicked smile. It's an excellent mine of information when you know where to find it"

The general could not hide a smile. He thought: "Sacred "Bloodhound"!"

The scout unfolded the jacket. They all realized it had been cut for a woman.

"These are the stripes of a superior officer", said the general.  
The intelligence officer completed: "Major to be more precise"

"Women, major and pilot, there mustn't be any masses of them"

The intelligence officer snapped his fingers.

"I only know of one, Jay Hawkers!"  
"Only one pilot made it to the frigate and destroyed it... Then it would be her, wouldn't it?"

The intelligence officer completed: "She's an excellent pilot. She started out on a standard TIE and always gave us the worst problems. Her present score must be sixty victories, including at least three frigates, as I recall"

He went on to say: "If they've sent us big stuff, it's certainly not a minor operation to test our defences!"

Rudy said to himself: "Commodore, it's not going to make much difference, but just know that you weren't shot down by just anyone"

He spoke up:

"I'm sure she's the one who must have been wounded and carried off by her gunner. We saw that she had been hit by the frigate's tusks on her last pass"

At that very moment, the Detection Officer's walkie-talkie began to crackle.

"Excuse me, that's the blue line", he said, pressing the listen button.

The blue line was the absolute emergency line.

The officer listened without answering, and everyone around him saw his jaws tighten more and more. He finally released the button and said:

"Good. Calculate trajectories and keep me informed"

He turned to the general and said:

"Three heavy ships just came out of hyperspeed and are heading our way"

The general asked: "How long before they enter our orbit?"  
"They're calculating", replied the detection officer. "But certainly no more than twenty minutes"

"Let everyone get to battle stations, staff and cooks included"

He turned to the three scouts who had not moved.

"Then, boys, for the break you will have to wait for another time"

The scouts saluted and left without a word, followed by the officers. Rudy closed the march.


	10. Just a reflection

Imperial base of "New Masada", field hospital "Goumrak 3".

She coughed. Her nose was blocked and her throat was parched. She began to fidget in her bed trying to find a better position and not being able to do so, she ended up swallowing what woke her up.

She opened her eyes and batted her eyelids.

At first, she saw only a green curtain then she finally understood that it was a tarp that closed the access to her room, if we could so apply the cellar where she was.

She stood up on her elbows and called out:

"Hello? Anyone there?"

A moment passed, then she heard a footsteps and the curtain was raised. A corporal nurse came in.

"Hello Major. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"How long was I in daze?"  
"Two hours. You had surgery this morning, it's about noon"  
"When can I go out?"  
"The doctor has to come and examine you in an hour. He's operating right now"

Jay made a gesture of impatience.

"I want to return to duty immediately!"  
"Where to, Major? There's no longer a space base in "New Masada""

The medic continued:

"You must eat. I'll bring you a ration"

Indeed, Jay realized she was hungry.

"Thank you, Corporal. I'm thirsty too. If you can bring a gourd too..."  
"No problem, I'll bring it all back"

The nurse raised the curtain and disappeared. Jay found himself alone again.

She wondered: "What am I doing here?"

She put her hand to her face and felt a thick bandage. Her fingers ran across her cheekbones, across her nose... Nothing but the bandage, flat and smooth.

His heart rate increased. She scanned the room, looking for a mirror. There wasn't one.

The curtain rose again, revealing the nurse holding a tray.

Jay told him: "I want a mirror"

"There isn't one in here"  
"Are you kidding me? How do you shave?"

The corporal turns gloomy.

"Major, this is surgeon's business. Only he can decide to bring you one"

Jay blew slowly, stress and anger bubbling up inside her. But she was hungry.

She replied in a curt voice as she attacked the tray. "We'll see about that after we eat"

The nurse walked out without a word.

* * *

She had long since finished her meal when the surgeon arrived with the nurse.

He asked her: "How are you, Major?"

She almost shrugged her shoulders for the second time.

"Ready to get out of here. But first I want my bandages removed and a mirror brought to me"  
"Are you sure that's what you want ?"

Jay looked him in the eye and said: "If necessary, I'll give you the order"

The surgeon motioned to the nurse. Jay rested his head on the pillow, and the nurse undid the bandage. He then walked out of the room and came back with a small chipped mirror that he handed her. She took it, sat down on the edge of the bed, placed it at the height of her face and saw his reflection.

The surgeon hadn't uttered a word.

She expected what she saw, but the shock was severe.

It reminded her of a game from her childhood, where characters were created by assembling strips. A band for the forehead or the hat, one for the eyes, one for the nose, one for the mouth...

His face had become a game. They had just removed a band, the nose band, and behind that band there was no the cardboard bottom of his childhood toy, but a stormy sea of flesh of all colours, red, white, pink... his nose had disappeared, replaced by two oblong, moist and bleeding openings.

She realized that a long scar ran along her left cheekbone and cut off the ear in to two pieces. A bigger shrapnel, certainly a piece of the collimator.

The upper lip had been spared, probably by the oxygen mask. His eyes were absolutely intact and there were only a few impacts on his forehead. She blesses Sam and the manufacturer of her glasses.

She wasn't especially pretty or coquettish, but the loss of the little seduction she possessed was all the more cruel to her.

She sighed deeply.

In garrison, she had never lacked stallions to ride, but she was without illusions about the nature of their feelings. She was the ace they wanted in their prize list, the woman did not interest them.

She told herself: "Now they will have to be damn motivated".

This thought made her smile. The surgeon saw him and asked:

"What are you thinking about, Major?"  
"I was thinking that I would better get increase my score for still find lovers"

The surgeon laughed.

"You're recovering fast! But in the end, you don't have to worry too much about that. A medical unit can easily rebuild you better than new. It's just..."  
"Only what ?"  
"Your face was riddled with shrapnel from your bullet-proof windshield. A lot of them were embedded in the bones of your skull and they are not detectable on x-rays or CT scans. So we have to wait for them to be rejected and migrate to the surface"

"So I'm going to reject splinters?"  
"Yes exactly. They'll pierce your scarred skin and be removed"  
"And how long will that take?"  
"To make sure your new face isn't damaged, about six month".

Jay thought: "I'll be sort of gestating on my own. If I will survive that long, of course"

She changed the subject while the nurse put her bandage back on.

"Was there any assignment decision taken about me?"  
"Yes Major" answered Anton, who had just come out of nowhere. "You are assigned to the "Rodina" Battery, under the orders of the ci-devant Staff Sergeant Julius Mansour as a sniper"  
"Ci-devant? Is this a penal section?"  
"Yes, Major, like 70% of the units in "New Masada"

He added: "Your package has been prepared"

And he bring to her a uniform of planetary army with a questionable cleanliness, topped with a pair of walking shoes that already had a lot of miles.

"What about my brassiere?" asked Jay, who had just realized that his chest was free under what could pass for a nightgown. "Did you get it back?"

"Yes Major", Anton answered. "We washed it for you and it's in your package"

She breathed a sigh of relief. As long as you go into battle, you might as well go in comfort.

She took off her shirt, put on her brassiere, then put on her uniform. It was about her size. Maybe a little tight at the hips.

The surgeon told her:

"Please come back tomorrow, we'll change your dressing and check that everything's OK. But don't take off your mask. You no longer have a nose to filter the air and your nasal cavities are still sensitive"  
"Understood doctor" answered Jay.

"By the way, Major, thanks for the morphine in your suit", added the doctor.

She was startled and exclaimed:

"How! You had morphine and you didn't give me any? What justified your decision?"

She still remembered how much pain she had to endure before she fainted.

The surgeon stiffened up and answered her in a clear voice:

"Your wounds were superficial, Major. They were painful, but not vital. Your morphine and that of your machine gunner have allowed me to save six belly-wounded troopers who would otherwise have been condemned"

She fell silent. She was a superior officer, an ace, and was not accustomed to being rebuffed in this way, but deep down she recognized on her own that the surgeon was right.

She swallowed her pride and said to him:

"You did the right thing"

The surgeon smiled at her and added:

"You know, Major, everybody's in the same boat in "New Masada", and braids don't count for much"

She turned to Anton:

"Where are my guns?"  
"Into the battery, Major. I'll take you there"

She followed Anton, and they left the hospital by pushing the tarpaulins of the third entrance.

* * *

Imperial Cargo HV20-1 "Hoth's Glory", planetary battle of Dvar.

The first transport ship approached Dvar and began to position itself for atmospheric descent.

Orbits close to the planet still kept track of the battle. It was only clouds of debris in progress of agglomeration, shapeless structures and sections of ships. Some were still burning a little bit and following trajectories erratic caused by the ejection of combustion gases.

Many bodies were also seen, some no longer moving, others luckier emitting the recovery flash. Taman observed a group that had tied together and connected their suits. He thought: "Certainly part of the crew of the frigate".

For the moment everything was going well, even a little too well. Indeed, there was not the slightest reaction on the part of the Republicans.

They could still have sent at least one X-Wing on reconnaissance, he thought. They certainly didn't get themselves trounced.

The radio operator turned his head to the cockpit and said:

"I'm picking up Reps comms. They're so hot on their asses that they don't even take the time to encrypt them"

Ryan replied immediately:

"Put it on speaker"

There was some crackling and then everyone heard:

""Biem Hoa" to "Cerberus 2"... confirm your transfer time... confirm your transfer time..."  
""Cerberus 2" to "Biem Hoa". An hour and a half for orbital approach. Repeat..."

"We have a little time ahead of us", Ryan thought. ""Cerberus 2" must be the other frigate. We're going to get through out of range of firing the ion cannon before she comes running and you'll be fine"

"If we don't get hit at the end of the descent by an ambushed Y-Wing..."

He turned to the captain:

"Get into a steep descent!"  
"But, Officer, we risk damaging the ship's heat shields!" answered the pilot.  
"I don't give a damn about your shields! That is an order!"

He turned to the radio operator:

"Warn the ships behind. Tell them to follow us in ten minutes"

The heavy transporters began its descent procedure. It was more complex than usual, as we had to avoid the area of firing the ion cannon and adjusting the final descent to aim at the "New Masada" runway or what was left of it.

Taman called the firing stations on the intercom:

"Open your eyes! We haven't seen a Reps fighter so far, but they may well wake up!"

The machine gunners confirmed.

Taman sat in the jump seat in front of the engine operator. In ten minutes it will be over, he thought.

He didn't like those moments when one had to remain passive, in the hands of the pilots or in the fragile shells of the ships into space. He much preferred true contact.


	11. The lost path

"New Masada" imperial base, "Rodina" battery.

Jay, guided by Anton through the maze of trenches soon arrived at the main shelter of the "Rodina" battery.

She pushed the plastic door that blocked the entrance, walked down the corridor and entered the common room.

Four troopers were eating at the central table. One of them, a giant, was picking out a box of survival ration, raised his head and said to him:

"Hi, doll! You lost your way to your grandmother?"

She didn't even sink to retaliate. She simply said: "There must be some weapons for me, where are they?"

The Trooper shrugged his shoulders, without stopping eating. He turned his head to a corner of the shelter.

"This way" he mumbled between bites. "On your bunk"

She walked unanswered into the corner. She hadn't noticed it at first because the lighting was rather dim, but there was a piece of hallway leading to a dormitory. She went in.

The dormitory was hardy two meters high, and had a dozen bunk beds in groups of three. As a result the space between the windchests was extremely small, barely fifty centimetres. There was a damp, den-like atmosphere.

"One should not have restless sleep", she thought. She advanced between the different bunks and finally found her weapons on a top mattress. There was a sniper rifle, a blaster in his belt holster and a dagger.

She took the rifle. It was an ancient weapon, which had obviously gone through a lot and must have passed into the hands of many shooters. She inspected the breech and the ammunition and saw that the emitted laser was invisible to the naked eye by day. Good point for a sniper weapon.

She snapped the trigger in dry-practise and felt a clean, supple bump. The mechanism had been reworked, the weapons military being generally stiffer.

She smiled.

"A good tool" she thought, "but we'll have to see about adjusting the scope. We'll do that in a situation".

She buckled her belt, left the dormitory and returned to the common room.

There was a great din there. Two troopers had just returned and were talking at full speed with the one who had just finished eating.

"Blom, they have taken up the offensive again" said one of those who had just arrived.  
"Julius and his squad got stuck", took the other one back. "They're surrounded in the battery and the Reps are tightening up the cord"

The trooper who had just risen from the table said:

"Let's go"  
"Good idea, let's go" added Jay who had just interfered in the conversation.

The six soldiers, surprised, turned their heads.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? A written order from the Reps?"

The two soldiers came out of the dugout, followed by the four who had just seized their weapons and finally Jay carrying his rifle to the strap.

They walked briskly down a trench to a barricaded elbow.

"This is it" said one of the troopers. "We can't advance any further; they've got the rest of the trench under their fire"

"Are there any side branches? Can we go around them?" asked Jay.  
"Yes, but that we'll do, Major" answered Blom.

He added when he saw the rifle. "Are you a sniper?

"Yes soldier"  
"Good. You will cover us. A firing post has been set up between the trenches. Yegor will show you. You've got two minute to set you up. Then we open fire"

She followed the soldier through the maze of muddy bleedings that formed the defence of the battery. They arrived in a barely sketched network in which one had to bend and then crawl on the elbows. The leading trooper stopped.

"We're up to them" he said. "The post is thirty meters away, right on that little bump"  
"Your coat, soldier" replied Jay.

Without understanding, Yegor handed him his dull gray poncho. Jay put it on and put the hood over his head at eye level. She crawled out of the trench, which was easy because it was only three feet deep. She crawled up to the firing point, a simple elongated hole with a few stones cemented with mud as a parapet. The hole was filled with muddy water. There was no alternative, and she sank into the cold water, placed her rifle in front of her and checked that the safety had been removed. She didn't look through the scope, it was still useless.

Everything was calm, the puddle she was dipping in was starting to warm up.

Then all of a sudden she heard heavy fire from the trench. The counterattack had just begun.

She couldn't help them directly, they were out of her sight. Her role was limited to preventing reinforcements from coming from the top of the trenches. And indeed, at first, she had nothing to do but watch ahead of her when she heard the rumour of the skirmish.

Then, suddenly, she saw Reps springing up as if they were gushing out of the ground. "They must come out of a parallel trench" she thought to herself. They were running in her direction to help their comrades.

She pointed her rifle and looked into the sights. It was easy, too easy. At that distance, it wasn't a sniper's job, more likely a knacker's job. But it had to be done.

Since she didn't know how the scope was adjusted, she aimed at the chest to make sure. She blew softly through her mouth and the cross went down slowly on the lead soldier. He fell sharply, as if he had hit an invisible wall. A little to the left, she thought to herself. Two notches, maybe three. We'll see how quiet it is after the engagement.

Four other Reps followed. The next ones hit the ground. At least they're not advancing any further, she thought. She took her time and walked slowly through the landscape. She smiled. It's better when the game fights back. She was looking for an officer. Eventually she found him, a little further back. She checked the braids on his left shoulder, estimated the drift based on the distance, shifted her reticule and fired.

The officer barely moved. Quick and discreet.

It had been six; it was time to change location. The Reps were not completely stupid and they would soon ask for fire support or install a grenade launcher. She came out of the puddle and retreated back to her starting trench. The trooper was gone. She ran curved into the trench for about a hundred yards and then crawled out again.

Her new firing post was not as good as the previous one, she had to dig a little with her hands to be able to settle down comfortably. "At least it's dry" she thought.

She looked at the panorama. For the moment nothing was moving, the Reps were still with their noses in the mud. No more noise came out of the trench. She stayed like that for a good ten minutes and then she had had enough. She was ready to go back to the trench when she astonished.

A full squad of Republicans was coming at her left. They moved forward at intervals, and from time to time threw a smoke bomb to mask their movements.

"They want to flank me" she thought to herself. "And take the trench at the same time"

They were one further away than at the beginning, she estimated the distance at two hundred yards. She backed up. It was a little harder than the first time, the smoke clouding the sight. She fired three times, and two soldiers fell. Again, they all lay down about a hundred and fifty yards from her.

She saw a laser tracer standing at the end of a mast.

Tooled, she thought to herself. But never mind, we have to keep blocking them. She took her time, and finally noticed a soldier holding a transceiver. The fire support will not be long, she thought. It will certainly be her last shot. She applied herself. The firing window was very narrow, just between the radio station and a small ground survey. She gently squeezed the trigger and pulverized the radio casing.

Missed! She gritted her teeth and fired again. Uncertain shot.

The detector flashed at the end of her mast. Spotted now!

A grenade exploded twenty yards away from her. She tackled it and heard the shrapnel whistle. "We had to retreat now"

She advanced to the parapet. The grenade fire was more intense, but fortunately slightly out of phase, and the smoke from the explosions masked it. She moved her head forward to take a look inside the trench when all of a sudden a blaster cannon slammed under her chin.

"Ah it's you Major!" exclaimed the trooper at the end of the blaster. "Announce yourself next time!"  
"But how?"  
"With the racket you made as you crawled along, it wasn't very difficult" added a second soldier.

They all laughed. There were four of them carrying the standing laser they had just taken from the Republicans. Jay was wearing a mask, so they couldn't see the red coming to his cheekbones. She was horribly upset.

"Good job fixing them, Major. Don't worry about the rest, we'll give you a little joke, but you'll learn fast"  
"How's it coming with the battery encirclement?"  
"It's broken, they're cleaning around it. The old man has to come by, we'll introduce you to him"  
"The old man?"  
"Yes, that's what we call the battery chief, his real name's Julius Mansour, formerly Staff Sergeant"  
"Are you all in the Penal Section?"  
"Yes, Major. We were all brought here first to work in the mine, then command gave us a choice: Either stay a miner on half ration, or go back to trooper on full ration. Nobody hesitated"  
"I see".

Just then Sam appeared at the end of the trench.

"Jay! Uh, I mean major!" He exclaimed.  
"Forget it, Sam; I hear the ranks are no longer held here"  
"All equals, back to Eden!" Added a trooper.  
"We're right at the door" added another. "One last effort!"  
"Jeez, Jay, it's good to have you back" stuttered Sam. He stopped talking just before his voice choked.  
"Yes, Sam, we've both come a long way"

She never mentioned the mission or the crash again. What's the point? It was in the past. Now we just had to keep living in that other world. Sam, for his part, couldn't help but secretly look at Jay's mask. He also saw the scar from the tracheotomy at the bottom of his neck.

He thought to himself: "How can she still fight and joke?"

"Ah, here's the leader!" announced the soldier who had pointed at her.

Just then, a huge explosion shook the ground. A Y-Wing flew over them.

"Here, they're back" said one of the troopers soberly.

* * *

Under the Y-Wing bombs, we had to crawl back into the trench. Eventually they made their way back to the dugout where Jay had left. Julius, the leader, ordered one of the troopers to stand sentry in a niche near the entrance, then they returned to take refuge.

"They do all they can" said one of the soldiers.  
"For the time being, there's nothing to be done" replied Julius. "Try to get some rest, as soon as the shelling stops, it'll be the assault"

He walked around the assembly with a circular gaze and finally noticed Jay in his muddy and wet battle fatigues.

"Welcome back, Major! I see you've been back into the swing in no time at all".  
"Is it like this every day? "  
"Let's just say it's woken up a bit since you arrived. You must have upset them"  
"Have you heard from the reinforcements?"  
"Two vessels landed safely at the resistance centre. The third was attacked on the way down but still made it back to base. There have been some ejections, so it's possible we may be able to recover some of the isolated ones"

Jay looked at Sam: "At least the sacrifice of our squadrons wasn't in vain"

Sam had taken his post a day before Jay, but it seemed to him to be ten years ago. The Republican assault had been sudden and brutal, even for troops who knew their areas.

He was about to respond when the shelter door opened and slammed against the wall. Everyone was startled, Julius included. A few blasters rose up.

"Slow down, soldiers, I'm an imperial like you!"

The newcomer wasn't wearing a uniform, but civilian clothes, crumpled and muddy from the trenches. He certainly had to crawl to get to the shelter. A small group of troopers appeared behind him.

"I introduce myself: Wolfgang Bujac, special envoy of the Imperial Council on a fact-finding mission to your base"

Slowly he glanced around the group staring at him silently. Jay had the impression that he froze for a split second when he saw her, but she blamed that on his injuries. Julius then spoke:

"Are you the bearer of the codes?"  
"I see that you are aware of the procedures. Amazing for a convict"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a holographic pendant. He activated it and all could see the image of Emperor Palpatine who beyond the death still served as a seal to the imperial orders appearing in the half-darkness of the shelter.

Julius saluted.

"Excellence, we are at your disposal. But where are you from?"  
"Our troop vessel was attacked on the way down and I had to jump with a few soldiers. We lost a day wandering between the lines, but we finally found you"  
"How did you manage not to fall into the arms of the Reps?"  
"He rounded us up and guided us" said one of the troopers behind the ex-Jedi. "We never would have made it without him"

Julius was about to speak, but the door opened again. It was the lookout.

"Chief, they're coming!"

"Weapons power on and safety off!" Said Julius in a loud but calm voice. "Everyone to their posts, Major, follow Blom, the tall one looking like an idiot"

The convict laughed and turned to Jay:

"Come on, baby, let's go for glory!"


	12. War night

The late afternoon was spent on Dvar and what was left of the "Rodina" battery.

Jay had held his post all day long, within Blom's voice range. The pile of used batteries at her feet testified to the harshness of the battle. His sniper rifle was pressed down on the trench wall, useless for the moment, her targets being close and mobile.

The strong smell of ozone caused by the firing of the weapons saturated the ambient air. She wanted to rubbed his nose and met only the sticky tissue of his mask.

"I'll have to get used to it" she thought.

She looked at what she had left of ammunition. Five batteries, still in their watertight packaging. Enough to hold off two assaults, maybe three by putting his blaster on short burst, but no more than that. She turned her head to Blom's side and hailed him:

"Blom, what do you have left in ammunition?"  
"Three batteries. We have to get back to the depot before they come back"  
"Is it far?"  
"Don't worry, I've already sent Yil. He's good for nothing in the trench, but as a supply ship he's excellent"

A moment passed and then Blom made a grimace.

"It's not moving much anymore. They tried to get to us, but it looks like they've moved on to something else"

Jay heard it without really listening. The fatigue was starting to kick in.

The position she was occupying was well laid out, and although she wasn't wearing a helmet she was had only had to tackle the parapet on three occasions. She suspected, however, that Blom had something to do with it, because she had seen him deflect his shot from time to time for the release from too much pressure.

Yil arrived, carrying two bags full of ammunition, one on his back, the other on his belly. He put the first one at Jay's feet, then the second one next to Blom, twenty meters away. He was on his way back to the ammunition dump when a trooper came out from the end of the trench. He ran as fast as he could reach Blom.

"The chief sent me to warn you. We're surrounded!"  
"Again!" Grumbled the convict. "What are the instructions?"  
"We stay in position"  
"Who's orders are those"  
"From the centre. Julius will be stopping by later tonight to assess the situation. In the meantime, we need to ensure the position"

Blom shrugged his shoulders, then looked down at the battlefield from his position.

"This is more than calm, and it's not good. Tell him not to dawdle"

The dispatch rider set off again. Jay was putting the batteries away at his post when Blom called her:

"Major!"  
"Yes?"  
"They've surrounded us. Julius will come by tonight to see what we can do. Clean up your rifle in the meantime"  
"Copy that"

She put her blaster in the niche and unpacked her rifle. The accumulator weren't the same type as the ones she'd just received. She turned to Yil who hadn't lost a scrap of conversation:

"Yil, I need you to bring me at least two batteries like this" she said to him pass a model.  
"Okay, Major, you'll have them within the hour"

He picked up the bags and left as he came.

* * *

Julius arrived two hours later, a little faded, accompanied by Bujac. He was worried and announced abruptly:

"They placed stationary encircling droids. We'll never be able to get between these fucking robots"

Blom and Jay remained silent. They had indeed seen in the distance the enemy infantrymen posing these devices, which resembled large R2 units armed with sensors and armed with a laser of high precision.

"Not yet" Jay replied. "With sharpshooters, you can take out two robots and get past then between them"

She did not want to be a prisoner at any cost and was willing to do anything to avoid that. The support came from a side she didn't expect.

"It might work" Bujac intervened after a period of reflection. "We'll have to do this early in the morning; the mist will make the robots' optical fire less accurate. We'll launch thermal decoys to dazzle them in infrared"

This intervention bothered Jay. "Where'd he learn all this? For a former Jedi his age, supposedly a imperial observer, he knew a little too much about tactics. What the hell did that mean?"

She didn't have the answers, so she went back to more immediate problems.

She asked, turning to Julius: "Who can do this besides me?"  
"We've got Esi, she's a very good shot. She won't be able to go with us, she's lost a leg two weeks ago, but if I ask her, she'll do the job"  
"All right, it's settled" concludes Jay. "We've got all night to set up. I'm going to go round for to survey the robot positions and find the best location"

Julius replied: "In the meantime, I'm taking Esi to work"  
"I'll accompany you major" said Bujac as he stood up. "I don't want to stay here waiting"

Everyone got up and left. Jay and Bujac went by the main trench to the west branch, in the direction of the centre of resistance of the imperial base.

After a moment, Bujac broke the silence:

"Major, I sense you have reservations about me. Is it my function as an observer that's blocking you?"  
"Perhaps a little, but the truth is that I don't understand what you're doing here. Why the Imperial Council would need to know what's going on here? It's all about the outcome, isn't it?"  
"And yet he appointed Crebs to stay on the mothership"  
"Everyone knows that Admiral Louchké is getting out of prison. Although you didn't have to complain at the moment"  
"Do you like Louchké?"  
"Yes. I have already fought under him before his arrest. I was brought to testify at this at the time, and I never understood what he was accused of"

The defrocked Jedi replied cautiously: "The Emperor's reasons were sometimes impenetrable"

He continued: "The truth is that I'm the one who asked the Council to join the operation. I consider that with the importance of this mission, he had to have the most accurate information possible"  
"And you've been in contact with him since you landed?"  
"Not yet. It's been a bit hectic since landing" he says, pulling out a transmitter encrypted from his jacket. "But of course as soon as we get to the "New Masada" center"

Jay replied with a thin smile: "Above all, call me then. I'm excited in advance about attending an imperial transmission"  
"Sure, I will" concluded Bujac, returning the favour.

They reached the end of the trench. Things were starting all over again.

* * *

The night, or rather the twilight which served as night on Dvar had fallen about one hour when all the protagonists of the meeting met again, with the exception of Blom. Two new faces had nevertheless made their appearance.

The first was a tall, rather pretty woman, dressed in a lattice or was pinned the tank unit insignia. The left leg of his trousers was empty and a crutch made of recycled materials was leaning behind it, against the wall of the building from the trench.

Julius made the introductions:

"Major Hawkers, Imperial Fleet, Esi, ex-Gunner on TB-TT and sniper"

The two women looked at each other silently for a brief moment and then Jay spoke:  
"Bujac and I spotted a place that wasn't too bad"

She drew a map on the ground.

"There's a difference in elevation there. The droids have been placed a little higher, so that makes that you can approach them at ground level without breaking off on the horizon. It will still be necessary to dig a little deeper so as not to be detected when you come out of the trench"  
"I'll take the robot on the left, here; the furthest away" she said, digging a small crater on the edge of the circle she had drawn.  
"Warned though, you'll have to get close enough to be effective" added Bujac.  
Jay asked: "Esi, will you be able to do it?"  
Esi answered: "Are you asking me to crawl or to shoot?"

She added:  
"You should know that here, you learn quickly to get your belly in the mud. And to shoot, it seems to me that it's not with the legs"

Bujac smiles imperceptibly. Jay replied in a conciliatory voice:  
"No problem. I didn't want to offend you or question your abilities. For the mud, you're right, I've already given"

She looked at the empty pant leg:  
"Looks like we're all leaving something on the damn planet"  
Esi replied immediately: "It's far from over. We can still lose some more"

Julius intervened:  
"Esi, thank you for being here. It's a dirty job we're asking you to do. You know that you won't be able to go with us..."

Esi shrugged his shoulders.

"If you make it through, don't forget to mention me in your reports!"

She laughed; an offbeat sound in the trench. A feeling of unease overcame Jay.

"At least I'll survive somewhere" she concluded.

A silence.

The second new head that had been standing aside until then began to speak:

"When you're through, we'll conduct a diversionary attack on the opposite side of the pocket. It will distract them a little and give you some time"

Jay turned to the man who had just spoken and said:

"Who are you?"  
"Ci-devant Lieutenant Vo Skarga" replied this one. I am the chief of "Salang" Battery, the north wing of "Rodina"

Jay realized she hadn't had time to learn the tactical situation.

"Are you included in the encirclement?"  
"Not yet, Major. We still have a corridor, but probably not for long. They're doing all that they can"  
"How did you get here?"  
"The bag isn't tied up yet. Small groups can still join or leave you"

Jay looked at his caller again. He was a young man, with a peaceful and straightforward face.

She thought: "What the hell did you do to end up in the penal section?" She almost asked him, but it really wasn't the time.

"Okay" she says. She turned to Esi again:  
"What are you going to do next?"  
"What do you care? You'll be far away from all this"

Jay stiffened. This one-legged female convict was starting bother her. Still, she said in a soft voice with a smile on her face:

"I'll have to fill out the report, won't I ? Isn't that what you want?"

Esi laughed for the second time, but it wasn't the same one, it sounded clearer. She admitted:

"Well said!"

Skarga intervened:

"That's why I'm here, Major. After the job, I'll help him get back in our lines"

Jay wondered why a battery chief would expose himself in this way, but she didn't insist. She just nodded her head.

Julius, who had remained silent until then, said:

"All right, I'll pass the word on to my boys. The fog begins to lift about two o'clock in the morning; you'll have to be in firing position about half past two. After that you won't be able to aim any more, it'll be a real pea soup"

"Understood" replied Jay. "I'm going to find myself a quiet place to get some sleep. You'd better be in good shape"  
"Same for me" said Esi.

Julius and the others got up without a word and left the trench.

* * *

The containment droids were about five hundred yard apart. As Jay considered himself more mobile, the two women settled almost in front of the one intended for Esi. Some small shooting benches were set up at the edge of the trench, so they spread out their ponchos, undid their boots and lay down.

Dusk had just given way to a clear night. The front was calm, there was some sporadic blaster fire, probably some night reconnaissance, and then calm was restored, almost incongruous.

Jay couldn't help but open the conversation:

"Esi, how did you get into the penal section?"  
"You're pissing me off, officer of my butt. Let me sleep"  
"Well, well" grumbled Jay, turning his back on him.

A few minutes passed, and then Jay heard:

"For murder, if you want to know"  
"Hum…"  
"A smuggler. I had organized a small traffic between the bases where we were stationed. We were pretty much running around in the universe at the time. He tried to pull a fast one on me, I found out about it and I kill him"

"What I didn't know" she continued, "Was that the bastard was eating up all the racks and serving as an informant for Homeland Security. It wasn't long before they squeezed me"  
Jay said: "Surely they must not have liked it"  
"You can say that again. They didn't give me any favours on the interrogations. Well, you know the rest. The penal sections, the mud, one leg down... I feel I've paid my debt to the Empire in full!"

The two women were lying under the stars, about a metre apart. A moment passed and then Jay asked the question that burned her lips:

"Esi... Why did you do that?"  
"For the most important thing in the universe"  
"I don't see... for the honour? The fight? The Empire? "  
"No, for money"


	13. The second fall

They slept soundly. At one point Jay felt shaken. It was Sam.

"Jay, it's time" he whispered.

She got up and shook Esi in turn. Esi snortled silently at first, then finally said:

"Let's go"

She took her rifle, a newer gun than Jay's, unpacked it and checked the magazine.

"Go first. You've got forty minutes to set up" she said.  
Jay replied, setting his holoclock: "Okay. Shooting in three quarters of an hour"

She left curved in the trench.

Arriving in front of the encircling robot site, she donned the camouflage gear that Sam had brought her and crawled out of the trench on her elbows.

The encircling droids were about five hundred meters away. We had to get close to them on the more possible because the target was tiny. This was the glass of the pointing laser that was only a few centimetres in diameter. In addition, the glass was very thick and a decentred impact was ineffective.

She crawled slowly; a change too abrupt in the landscape would be spotted immediately, instantly triggering the machine's defensive fire.

"There's no point in getting upset" thought Jay. "I'm triggering, I'm dead"

She had covered about three hundred metres when she checked the time she had left, being careful to hide the light from the screen.

"One quarter of an hour left. Don't put yourself any pressure..."

She moved forward as far as she could and then stopped, slowly put her rifle in front of her and formed a small mound to put her weapon down. When she had done so, she looked through the scope. And she made a grimace.

The waiting position of the robot was not in front of her, so she couldn't break the porthole with a single shot.

Too late to change positions, she realized when she saw that she had only one minute left.

She calmed down and lined up the corner of the glass in her reticule.

Fifteen seconds, ten... she counted approximately.

She fired.

The shot chipped the window. The robot instantly turned the turret in her direction, the blaster cannon already descending to fire back.

A split second before it stopped, she fired again.

There was no response, which surprised Jay.

She wondered: "So I got it?"

To be sure, she fired twice more. No reply. She got up to look at him better when she saw two flashes on her left. She threw herself to the ground and felt the warmth of the rays grazing her back.

"Cloddish! You almost got yourself killed! You forgot about the neighbouring droid!"

She retreated in a hurry. Two more shots passed over her.

She thought: "Maybe it's not going to be as easy as that"

* * *

She returned to the trench and reached the place where Esi had left. She was sitting with her back against the wall and when she saw her coming, she simply announced:

"It's done"  
"How many shots?"  
"One"  
"Not bad. It took me four"

"I heard"

Julius came along in the meantime. "We have to go now. It's starting to fight on "Salang". Vo is doing the job"

Esi smiles imperceptibly.

Jay asked: "By the way, why don't we join "Salang"?"  
Bujac, who had just arrived, replied: "Because it's going to fall down too and there's more chance of going in small groups"

Jay sighed.

The Jedi was followed by the "Rodina" garrison, about fifteen troopers. The wounded that could not move had been left in the shelter. They passed silently in front of Esi, who was still seated and did not seem to see them. Jay saw Sam passing and smiling at her. Blom closed the march.

"Well, let's go" said Julius.

Without a word, Esi turned his head curtly in the direction where the group had left.

After that, Jay and Julius set off.

* * *

Actually, it was more complicated than Jay thought.

The destruction of the two robots was immediately detected by the neighbouring droids, who refocused their sensors and weapons in the direction of the free area. Although their fire was less accurate, it was still dense and dangerous.

The troopers had formed a column and were crawling along the path that passed just between the two wrecks. Thermal decoys and smoke had been thrown from both sides, but the Droids were firing at will, weaving a deadly web a meter above the ground.

Jay told Julius: "They're not going to last long at this rate"  
"They'd better not. We're not moving fast, and the regulars will be here soon"

They moved on their elbows as fast as they could. Ahead of them, the head of the column had broken through the encirclement.

She asked: "How long is it before we get back to our lines?"  
"It depends on the Reps. Between one and two days' march. Breaks every six hours and fires are forbidden"

She thought: "And to think that I had to go back to the doctor to check that everything was all right"

The rate of fire began to slow down and then stopped.

Julius told her: "Stay down, Major. It could start again at any time"

They crossed in turn the threshold of the two destroyed robots. At the head of the column, the troopers began to get up to go faster. Julius ticked.

"They better watch out"

There was no shooting.

She kept moving forward, Julius at her side. She saw Bujac in the distance and he kept crawling. She saw Sam getting up to replace a strap that had slipped off. She saw the flash slicing through the landscape...

The discharge reached him in the kidneys. He collapsed forward without a cry, thrown to the ground by the power of the impact. Jay saw his fall and screamed:

"Sam!"

That's all.

She crawled towards him as fast as she could and turned him over. In panic, she tried to grab his attention to keep him conscious:

"Sam, Sam, hold on!"

She took off her scarf and tried in vain to stop the bleeding.

"It's too large", she thought to herself as she felt the panic rising. The machine gunner understood her and spoke to her in a soft voice:

"Jay, wipe my face..."

Jay calmed down, untied her gourd, took out the rag he used to clean his rifle, wet it and cleaned his face from the mud that had settled on his face when he fell.

When it was over, Sam told him again:

"Jay..."  
"Yes, Sam?"  
"Kiss me"

She put her lips on his. They stayed like that for a short while, then he spasmed and she felt the salty taste of blood in his mouth. Yet she didn't move backwards.

Then her body became heavy in her arms and her head tilted backwards. She laid him gently on the floor. Her eyes had turned upwards, towards the sky, the stars...

She shut them off.

Julius had stayed close to her, joined by Blom who had turned back.

Julius said quickly: "Major, we have to hurry now"  
She replied: "It's over..."  
"Major, pull yourself together! They're on our heels, we have to go! Blom, it's to you!"

Blom grabbed Jay and almost lifted her up, ran crouching down to the rest of the group. Julius picked up Jay's gourd and shotgun and began to catch up with Blom, or at least try to.

Jay let him. Everything had become indifferent to him.

* * *

They ran silently most of the day. Jay had taken his place in the column, almost in the rearguard, just in front of Yil. Bujac leaded the way. The manner he had joined them had installed him as group leader and all had implicitly put themselves under his command.

Everyone wore the camouflaged hood, but from time to time they watched with concern for the enemy ships' trails high in the sky.

"If it's R-Wing, we're lost" Jay thought. They're loaded with sensors and can spot a needle in a haystack.

She kept that thought to her.

The twilight was falling when Bujac raised his fist. It was the sign of the halt. They gathered and sat in a circle without a word. Jay put down his rifle and said:

"I have to get away for a while"

Blom replied: "Okay, major, but don't go too far away. Your watch shift is in three hours"

She left in the dark. A small mound was twenty meters from the depression in which they had been stranded. She went around it and sat down.

She took her head in her hands and thought about everything she had just experienced. The mission, the crash, the attack by the Reps, the encirclement, Sam's death...

Sam had been his fourth gunner. The previous three had died in action.

On the SturmRam, to limit the weight, the gunner's station was much less armoured than the pilot's, so the casualty ratio was about five to one.

She remembered the second, who had died on the return trip a few minutes before docking. This was his fifth mission and she had listened to his agony all the way home and could do nothing about it. When she arrived, as she was getting out of the cockpit to rest, the mechanics had opened the turret hatch, removed the body and checked that the weapons were still operational.

Half an hour later, she saluted her third gunner before leaving.

She had thus hardened herself, little by little, without realizing it.

How many mission he had already done? She delved into her memory. At least the fifteenth, she thought. In her own way, Sam was a miracle; the machine gunners seldom went beyond ten fights.

But he was dead in the mud, not the open space. And he had saved her.

She also figured that after all she didn't know him well enough. In the imperial fleet, pilots were considered the nobility, while other seamen were more like the subordinate. It was only at the bottom of the ladder of access that the differences in status faded somewhat.

She took stock of all this, and was not proud of it. Sleep was beginning to numb her. Suddenly she was no longer the ace, the squadron leader or the model, but a sad and tired woman, and she began to cry, long and silently.

* * *

She felt a first tremor, then another. She was startled and opened her eyes. It was Bujac.

"Major, we will leave. Do you want a drink?"

"Is it my turn to keep watch?"  
"No, Major, I've taken your turn. I went to see you, and I thought I'd better let you get some sleep"  
"Thank you"

She got up and followed the Jedi. They arrived at the makeshift camp, where most of the troopers were ready or almost ready. Then she realized that the front of her jacket had a large wet halo on it. She was afraid that this sign of weakness would taunt her, but no one made any comment.

She thought to herself: "They must be as tired as I am"

She quickly drank a hot drink that she did not recognize, took her weapons and followed the small band that walked in single file.


	14. The ambush

They walked for about two hours, and then Bujac suddenly stopped the group.

Jay asked: "What's going on? "

To her amazement, she saw Bujac undo his belt and drop his blaster to the ground.

He says: "Do as I do"

There was a brief moment of hesitation, and then Blom did the same, followed by Julius and the others. Jay wouldn't let go of his rifle, Yil, who stood right behind her whispered to him:

"Do what he says, Major, if you want to live"

The rifle and the blaster went to the ground.

A few seconds passed. Then, in front of them, about thirty yards away, something stirred. It was a tent that had just risen, unmasking three Republican scouts.

Other canvases moved, and Jay and his group realized they were nearly surrounded. The soldiers who had discovered themselves first approached them. They then saw the scorpion from the LSSR on the sleeves of their uniforms.

One of the scouts says: "We're dealing with some pretty smart guys!"

"Five more seconds and the mines would go off" added a second. "Consider all yourselves as raised from the dead!"

He walked to the side, knelt down and searched the mud. And out of it came a bouncing mine, remote control and neutralized it. The other groups that had gotten closer did the same.

Jay counted five. They wouldn't have had a chance.

The first to speak approached the group of imperials who had stood still. He first stared at Bujac.

"You're a bit too smart" he said. "How did you know it was booby-trapped?"  
"I felt it" replied Bujac in a calm voice.  
"Felt it? You're a hunter then? A bit like me then!" replied the soldier.

The other scouts laughed.

"I doubt we're hunting the same thing", said Bujac.  
"And he replied!" exclaimed the scout, sending a left hook in his face.

Bujac's head didn't move.

"You're a tracker, and you're taking it" said the scout. "We'll see how long you last later"

He then passed to the other members of the group, without finding anything remarkable, except with Blom, who was still wearing his helmet.

"Take it off" he said.

The convict complied. The scout looked at the black painted circle on the top of the helmet.

"Penalty section, eh? Are you all in?"  
"I don't know" answered Blom, looking straight ahead.  
"In any case, your chips will speak for you. We broke your codes" replied the scout with a bad smile.

He finally got to Jay.

"It's my lucky day! I've always dreamed of riding an imperial mare! Well, the face looks not very good" he added, tearing off his mask, "But in doggy-style with a good girl hood..."

Jay was silent. The scout came up behind her and put his hand between her buttocks. Suddenly she leaned against the soldier and elbowed him hard in the stomach.

The scout stepped back, a little tightly packed, and a thin black dagger appeared like a sting in his left hand.

"Slut! I'm going to bleed you out while I..."  
"Spade, you'd better avoid this... " said the third scout, who'd been mute so far.

He added: "Put this knife away"

The scout hesitated. He looked at Jay, ready to pounce.

"One last time, put that knife away!"

The blade disappeared in a dry snap.

"You're the leader" said the scout in a voice of fury. "For the time being..."

"Bless your luck. If you would've done what you wanted it was the rope"

The chief resumed: "Search them and hobble them and you, Spade, take care of the guns"

A few daggers ended up on the ground. The scout noticed the sniper rifle at the feet of Jay.

"It's yours?"  
"No, I was just in charge of carrying it"

Spade shouted: "You're lying! I'll sweat you until you give me the date and hour you lost your virginity!"

The chief approached and saw the rifle.

"We got a dozen guys shot by a sniper a couple of days ago. It could be with this"  
"Certainly boss. But leave her to me, she'll tell us everything"

The officer pretended not to hear. He addressed Jay:

"Was that you?"

There was no point in continuing to deny it anymore. She said:

"Yes, it was me"  
"Why did you lie?"

Ella shrugged her shoulders.

"That's the game"  
"Pick up your mask" said the officer.

She bent down and put it back on.

"We know you. Your name is Jay Hawkers, you're a major in the Imperial fleet, and you just shot down a frigate and at least ten soldiers. Our intelligence officer will be happy to meet you"

Spade added greedily: "And once he's learned everything he wants to know, he'll entrust you to our care"

He added:

"Fuck, I've been tracking you for so long! I'm the one who found your jacket in the wreckage, and I was curious to see what was in it!"  
"And you still don't know what he was doing with that half-burned blouse!" Bid one of the scouts.

Everyone burst out laughing. The leader called out to them: "That's enough now! Truss them and let's go!"

The arms were placed on their backs and the ties were pulled. Jay tried to tighten her wrists to get a little play, but it was a waste of time. They marched in line under the watchful eye of the scouts.

They walked all day without stopping. There were no stops for food or drink.

At last the halt was ordered. The soldiers untied them one by one for natural needs. They s were then allowed two minutes each to swallow half a survival ration of half a small cup of water reeking of pest control treatments. The links were then immediately renewed.

* * *

The night was falling on Dvar.

The prisoners were placed back to back in groups of three. The ankles were shackled for prevent escapes. She ended up with Blom and Bujac. Forbidden to speak, the slightest sprain resulted in a rifle butt or boot strike. The damp cold was starting to get to them.

The three imperials tried to tighten their backs as much as possible to keep a little bit of heat. Eventually she falls into a half-sleep. Was she dreaming? She felt again that watched him and heard the voices. Or rather the voice, because this time she was alone.

"Excellent, she will soon be ripe... It is when there is nothing left that the best is left reveals..."

A pause. Then the voice resumed.

"Maybe a first try... Jay, can you hear me?"

She was startled. She had just taken a shoulder to her back. She thought at first that she had spoken in her sleep and that a sentry had come to strike her, but she did not see or didn't hear anyone around them. To his right Blom stirred, then went back to sleep and snoring.

"Major, Major, can you hear me?" Whispered a voice to his left.  
"Yes, I can hear you Bujac" she answered in the same tone. "Was it you who woke me up?"  
"Yes, Major. It was necessary"  
"Why?"  
"It would take too long to explain and this isn't really the place. But I want you to know that you are in danger and that you should not answer to whomever you speak to"  
"Why, because right now I'm not in danger maybe? Those bastard scouts are gawking at me all the time"  
"The voice is much more dangerous"

She couldn't help shrugging her shoulders. It must have been really terrible!

"Don't joke, Major" said Bujac, who perhaps must have read his mind. "I'll help you…"

They heard a sound of footsteps in their direction. That was Spade.

"So, doll? Are you talking in your sleep? Don't we remember it's forbidden?"  
"Um..."  
"You'll see when we get to the base. Two more days of walking... you'll be very tired and you'll want a good bed..."  
"You won't be the first one to screw me, you swine! I guarantee you a statue will be hotter than me!"

Spade slapped her.

"You won't have a choice. I've got everything I need to tenderize nervous meat…"  
"Go back to your position, Spade!"

It was the chief who just appeared out of nowhere. The scout was startled.

"And stop messing around! Tomorrow you go ahead!"

Spade looked at the leader with a fish eye but obeyed. He went back to the scout group.

Jay would have liked to thank the officer but it was impossible. She had to maintain the distance, keep the armour intact as long as she could. She withdrew to again on his two companions and tried to go back to sleep.


	15. The third day

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", conference room.

It has now been three days since the ships left for Dvar. The destroyer had been prepared for battle. The watertight bulkheads had been tested, the hangar, now almost empty, cleaned from top to bottom, the fire-fighting equipment deployed at strategic points.

A great silence reigned everywhere, as if the crew was providing calm before the storm of the battle.

On the evening of the third day, the detection station called Louchké.

"Admiral, we have two positive echoes on approach in the Kuat axis. That's big vessels"  
"How far away?"  
"About one day"  
"Watch them. Logically, they must be scouts. More echoes will be coming in soon. Call me back in the conference room if you need me"  
"Copy that"

The Admiral hung up. He called Crebs and Isse and asked them to come to the conference room within five minutes.

The three men met in the room. There was still no light, so they turned on a field lamp and placed it at the end of the long table. Lighted from below, Louchké spoke first.

"Two ships from Kuat have just been detected. Probably reconnaissance frigates"

Isse replied: "When will they reach us?"

"Same time tomorrow. They're refining the calculations"

No sooner had he finished his sentence than the intercom rang. The admiral picked up the phone and listened without interruption.

"Good. Tap their phones and let me know immediately if any attack ships leave"

He turned to the two men.

"A whole fleet just appeared"

Crebs asked: "Do we know if the Emancipator is in it?"  
"Not yet, but I bet you my admiral's badge that it is"

Isse intervened: "What's the program?"  
"They're going to deploy for the boarding. They've got all day to do it"  
"And?"  
"And they won't make it. We're entering an area riddled with black holes, and no captain worthy of being one dare go in there"  
"Hum?"  
"Except us, of course. Because unlike the Republicans, we have nothing left to lose"

Crebs and Isse couldn't help smiling.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command bridge.

Admiral Rousseau stood on the main platform flanked by Youlia Ashrod, the Colonel of Internal Security and Jed Koïnsky.

An NCO from the navigation bridge approached the group and said:

"Admiral, the fleet is complete. We're starting to get the objective in sight"  
"Perfect, perfect" replied the Admiral. "Give orders to surround them, but have them await my order for the final assault"  
"That's what excellence..."  
"What's that? Didn't you understand what I just told you?"

The NCO didn't know where to stand. Jed decided to put him out of his misery:

"What's going on, Sergeant?"  
"We can't deploy according to standard procedure. There are too many gravitational forces and the ships could tear apart if they get too close to the devourers"

The admiral asked with a sharp voice: "So how do the Imperials do it?"

The sergeant replied: "They're completely mad. Or else they have managed to find a channel in the midst of this chaos. We could follow them at a pinch, but by no means a full formation"

Jed turned to the admiral.

"Admiral now is the time to stop them! If we let them get in there, we'll be level at best!"  
"What right have you got to talk to me like that, cuirassier! Mark the three steps of respect!"

Jed stepped back. He looked the Admiral straight in the eyes and said with a calm voice: "You're making a huge mistake. Immobilize them first and then you can play with them all you want. But send your damn squadrons now, in two hours it will be too late"

"Colonel Ashrod! - Take Lieutenant Koïnsky back to his quarters and arrest him!" replied the admiral in a high-pitched voice.

Yulia approached Jed.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but those are the orders. Follow me"

There was nothing more we could do. You don't argue with "the sister of the machine", as beautiful as she is cold.

Jed stepped off the bridge, followed by Youlia. They went through the watertight door and into the corridor leading to the guest quarters. Jed couldn't help but say:

"Youlia, do something! The admiral is listening to you, there is still time to make up for all this! Just two squadrons of B-Wings, and he'll have his boarding!"  
"You're losing it, Lieutenant. I have complete confidence in the Admiral. If he decides not to send in the bombers, it's not necessary. Here is your cabin"

She opened the door.

"Do I have your word that you'll be confined?"  
"Yes, Colonel" replied Koïnsky, clicking his heels in an impeccable salute.  
"So I will not lock the door"

She saluted in her turn and went out without blocking the door, as she had announced. Jed found himself alone. He sat down on the bed, took his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

What the hell was going on? Could it be possible that the Admiral's right? Is it possible that we're right about everyone?

He turned his head from right to left. He had already participated in engagements against the forces commanded by Louchké, and it had never been easy. Why should this time be any different?

The choice of destination alone was questionable. The Mercy Nebula... it should have been a wake-up call for everyone...

He remembered that the only one who fired was one of the commanders of the fleet on board. He made an effort to remember and finally found his name. Sven Anbar. He decided to call him on the intercom.

"After all, I don't leave my cabin, he thought. The letter of my promise is respected, but in spirit, necessity knows no law"

The commander's face appeared on the screen. He asked, acknowledging Jed.

"Hello Lieutenant, to what do I owe your call? "  
"Hello, Commander. You're the only one who reacted when the Mercy Nebula was announced at the conference..."  
"Yes, so what?"  
"I just came from the command bridge. The ship we're chasing is engaging and we won't be able to deploy the fleet for boarding"  
"Continue"  
"I've suggested to the Admiral we send two bomb squadrons to try to board the cruiser before it's fully engaged. I've just been arrested for that"  
"We haven't received any readiness orders yet. But your suggestion is not idiotic"  
"Commander, would you please intervene with the Admiral? Your opinion may count for more than that of a mere lieutenant..."  
"I'll see what I can do. But I can't guarantee anything. The admiral is more stubborn than a mule"  
"Thank you, Commander. Since I'm under arrest, this conversation's supposed to be off the record..."  
"Of course" replied the commander with a thin smile.

The screen went off. Jed lay down on the bunk and closed his eyes. There was nothing more to do for now.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", main hangar.

The commander had to be convincing, because the order for the bombing formations to take off had finally been given. But a lot of time had been lost.

Attack, but with what kind of weapons? Should we opt for laser pods or bombs? We hesitated, and more time was wasted. In the end we decided not to decide anything and to use a combination of both ordnances.

The bay operators evacuated the hangar, the air was sucked out, and the doors were opened. The squadrons slowly exited the ship and proceeded to form up.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Command Bridge.

The admiral and Crebs stood silently on the bridge, one watching the large bay and its screens, the other lost in thought. Suddenly, one of the operators of the room stood up, climbed on the bridge and saluted in front of Louchké.

"Admiral, an attack squadron is forming around the "Emancipator". Two squadrons of B-Wing, totalling thirty aircraft"  
"What kind of armament?"  
"We can't see it yet, they're too far away"  
"Their travel time?"  
"An estimated half an hour"  
"Trigger a general alert"  
"At your service!"

The admiral stepped to the edge of the bridge and said in a loud voice to the entire crew present:

"The entire station is in combat communication. All hands on deck! No more saluting or protocol!"  
"Well sir!" answered in heart the station.

Crebs thought: "The ritual response of the Imperial Space Navy. Emperors come and go, traditions remain..."

Louchke turned to Crebs.

"Heini, can you get Isse? Things are rushing and I must talk to him alone"

Crebs was a little surprised, but he didn't show it. He nodded and left the station.

"Armament of the Joint Strike Squadron: Laser and bombs!" announced a detection operator in front of his screen.

Another added: "Contact in twenty minutes! "


	16. Out of bounds

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Port turret S7-31 "Bunker Hill"

The warning siren had sounded in the central saloon. Messages were now passing by without interruption for the last 15 minutes. Haberg had gone up to the technical section to check that everything was going good.

Josse was staring at the screens. He said:

"They're sending us something heavy. They're going to target the command post, that's how they always do it"

Vierbein replied: "You think so?"

"That's what I've already seen"  
"And how do we protect the command post?" Asked Hanson, who had just joined the conversation.  
"That's the problem; we're not protecting him any more than that. If they get right on top of it, they can drop their bombs undisturbed"  
"But we stop them first, right?"  
"Yeah, hopefully"  
"Hum…"

Hanson questioned: "Do you have an idea?"

"Maybe; but I need your command codes"  
"What do you want to do? "  
"I need you to remove the turret travel limitations so that I can fire in the direction of the command post"

Hanson flinched.

"But you're out of your mind! You realize what you're asking me! If you miss your shot!"  
"First I won't miss and then I'll only shoot if necessary, and lastly I guarantee you that the Reps won't hesitate to do it!"  
"Hum…"

Virbein added: "That's not a silly idea. You can frame half the post like that"

Hanson nodded. He was obviously hesitating. Josse continued:

"Go up in the turret with me, I'll explain what I'm going to do"  
"Okay, I want to see"

He followed Josse who had just started to climb the ladder. A long time went by, for they had to put on the suits to get into the turret, then Hanson reappeared, went down the ladder and approached the command post.

He took out his badge, placed it in the fire control reader and pressed a series of buttons.

"It's all recorded" he sighed. "Now I'm up to my neck in the troubles…"

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Command Bridge.

Admiral Rousseau stood on the bridge with Lieutenant Judd Tyndall, his aide-de-camp. Judd was the admiral's handyman. Rather good-looking, he looked after the comfort of his chief in all areas, while courting anybody wearing a skirt or blouse around him. He had thus acquired a solid reputation as a reveller and Dom Juan. For his military qualities, it was something else, and most of his counterparts said of him that all he had ever heard were champagne corks whistling in his ears. He addressed the admiral in these terms:

"Admiral, you've been in the thick of it for over two hours now. With all the orders you have given, you must be dying of thirst. At least let me bring you a little refreshment to prevent you from becoming dehydrated prematurely"

"Great idea, Judd boy!" replied the admiral with a big smile. "It's a good thing you're here to look after my health; I'm so passionate that I don't spare myself! Come on then!"

Radiant, Judd came down from the bridge, winked at a detection female operator who crossed his eyes, and headed towards the admiral's private apartment.

Rousseau, for his part, looked out over the large bay at the bombing squadrons on their way to the imperial ship. A NCO officer stepped down from the bridge and announced:

"Admiral, the bombing squadrons will be in contact in five minutes"  
"Well, well, don't let them ruin it too much, so that I can take it back to Kuat in triumph!"  
"We'll pass the pictures to you on the main screen," added the NCO.

Indeed, the large screen above the great bay had just been switched on, and a series of milky waves appeared. Then the focus was adjusted, and all were able to witness the beginning of the engagement.

The two squadrons of B-Wing had adopted a loose formation, in groups of three aircraft flying in a triangle and staggered in relation to each other. There were ten groups approaching their target from the rear. The Imperial Destroyer appeared to be abandoned. No fire, few lights visible even at maximum magnification.

An operator announced: "Contact in one minute!"

No reaction anywhere. The admiral said:

"Maybe they've abandoned their ship?"

Judd, who had meanwhile returned with a jug, couldn't help but add:

"So they fear you that much?"

No sooner had he said these words than the screen began to flash. The destroyer had just started its defensive fire. Tension rose immediately in the station. Things had just begun to get serious.

* * *

Republican bomber BW527 "Grim Reaper", crew Sven Anbar, Esan Dirlewanger, Diane Rajai, Mercy Space Engagement.

Sven thought: "A botched deal"

They had left in a hurry. He had managed to wrest the take-off order from the admiral after half an hour of arguing, and then had to run afterwards to get the bombers in working order. The plan of attack had been worked out during the flight, by voice.

He could not help thinking: "If the imperials had succeeded in breaking our code as rumour has it, we are fresh".

Esan, the co-pilot announced: "Ten minutes to contact"

A voice reached them from the lower level of the station.

"Sighting activated!"

Sven replied: "Good, Diane. Line up their command post and don't let go of it"  
"Copy that"

He relaxed a little. Diane was an excellent bomber. If he could get her over the target, it would be destroyed. Esan intervened:

"Chief, five minutes to contact. Shall I give the orders to get into attack formation?"  
"Not yet. If we do it too soon, they'll have time to adjust their aim"

He added:

"Pass the message to the laser crews. Tell them to concentrate their fire on the rear batteries. We will then make a bombing run up the command tower"

Esan smiled. The good old-time proven method.

Star cruisers were poorly defended from astern, as their designers considered that the thrusters ejection flow made it impossible to approach from that side.

That was not true.

It was possible to pass between the thrusters gas plumes and attack vital parts of the cruiser. In addition, the radiation from the superheated particles would dazzle the aiming systems and make defensive fire less accurate.

Nevertheless, this method was very risky, because if the cruiser triggered its four hyperdrive engines at this time, any attacker was instantly vaporized. In this case, the risk was non-existent because the central thruster of the Imperial ship was out of action.

Sven thought to himself : "A real bomber highway!"

The distance was rapidly shrinking. Esan gave the order to form an attack formation.

* * *

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Port turret S7-31 "Bunker Hill"

Hanson was alone in the central square; the others were at their posts. The intercom began to crackle:

"Sergeant Hanson, your parameters are incorrect. What's going on?"

That was the defence centre.

The sergeant thought loudly: "Damn it, what the hell do they care?"

He did the only thing he could do: The idiot.

"What's the problem, Central?"  
"Your site and azimuth deflections are incorrect. You changed it 15 minutes ago"  
"Did I? I may have gotten tangled up in all these figures..."  
"Sergeant, I'm ordering you to restore your settings! Execution!"

Hanson glanced at the main screen. The alert level had just been raised to fire at will. He replied in a panicked tone:

"Central, I've just received orders to open fire! I will restore the values after the alert!"

He cut the intercom. He thought: "If Josse got it wrong, I'm going to get a hell scolding" He thought for a moment and thought to himself: "If we're still alive after the alert of course"

* * *

The attack on the rear batteries had begun. Sven and Esan could see the laser hits on the destroyer's rear castle.

For the time being, the bomber formation remained at a distance from the cruiser, within laser range. When the defences were weakened, the formation would advance, lasers first, bombers behind, and carry out the actual bombing. Two concentrated passes were considered sufficient to immobilize a ship.

In this case, the task was made easier by the failure of the central engine and the absence of any on-board fighter.

The captain said: "Esan, that will be enough, give the order to advance". He added to the bomber's address:

"Ready Diane? Bombs armed?"  
"Ready chief! Safety removed!"

The imperial ship eventually filled the front ice of the cockpit completely. Sven announced:

"Watch out, resource!"

Pilot and co-pilot pulled the stick together and applied full power. The heavy ship climbed parallel to the rear of the destroyer and moved closer to the command bridge.

The bomber said: "Target not acquired!"

Now the scope had to be exactly aligned with the target. This was the bomber's job, and he had only a few seconds to do it. Diana finally announced:

"Target acquired!"  
"Let go! Drop everything!"

The bomb bay was opened. The pilots' job was now limited to keep the trajectory as stable as possible so as not to affect the precision of the bombing.

* * *

The order to fire had been given five minutes ago, and Virbein and Josse were standing in the turret in their pressurized suits. Hanson had disconnected the remote control, and the two men had full authority over all movements of the four turbolasers.

Haberg had rigged them a bypass on the ship's video circuit and they could see through the gun cameras the formation of B-Wing firing on the aft batteries. An image disappeared from the screen. A battery had just ceased to exist.

Josse then said to Virbein:

"Placed as I am, I'll shoot blind. You have to give me the signal when the bombers start climbing up to the command bridge. At that moment, I will fire from all weapons"  
"You think you would got all them?"  
"Not all, but it'll surprise them"

Josse was standing on the local fire control seat. He was aiming his scope at the underside of the command bay, right next to the main mast. It was the heart of his target. He acted on the pointing levers and the mass of several tons went down meekly. He had decided to start shooting from below and climb back up to the bridge.

He thought: "It would still be in my interest to stop in time"  
Virbein shouted: "Josse, they're climbing!"

The pointer focused to his scope pressed the firing button. The pulsating panting of the generators filled the turret.


	17. Adrift

Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Command Bridge.

Crebs still wasn't back yet. The admiral stood alone on the bridge, looking out over the bay and the screens.

A controller says: "Port aft battery 36 out of order!"  
A female sergeant announced from behind her screen "A laser assailant destroyed starboard!"

A voice added to the concert again:  
"Fuel leak in sector L negative 3! Caulking team on the area in two minutes!"

Louchké asked: "What are their losses?"  
"Three lasers. No bombers yet. They are standing back"  
"Decrease gradually the intensity of our defensive fire. We must spark their attack now. I'll give the order to fire"

"Before we are too weak to return fire" said the Admiral to himself.

The orders were given and the batteries went off one by one. The fleet of bombers suddenly moved forward.

"The moment of truth" He breathed in to prepare to shout the order.

The bombers had just broken their trajectories and were beginning their resources.

* * *

Josse's shot was well adjusted. Despite the extremely narrow angle, the flashes of energy pulverized the three B-Wings at the left end of the attack formation. The blast of the bombs and tanks caused damage all the way to the centre of the formation.

Sven and Esan were on their way up to the command post when they saw a huge flash on their left. Their ship was shaken and alarm bells went off.

The bomber, which was in the center of the line of attack and was almost in the middle of the mast that carried the command post, deviated from its trajectory under the effect of the blast and went to the right. Sven shout:

"Esan, full left!"

They were getting dangerously close to their right wingman. The two pilots put the left stick until the ship stopped drifting.

"Esan, neutral!"

Just then the horn for the ejection of charges will sound. The bombing had just started.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Command Bridge.

Admiral Rousseau, fascinated, watched the main screen which was nothing but flashes and explosions. He saw the shot the imperial ship's defenses weaken, the formation advances and begins to pull the destroyer back up by grazing the central nozzle.

"Everything's going perfectly" Judd thought it best to comment.  
"Our crews are really great" said the admiral.  
"Bombardment in ten seconds!" Announced a checkpoint.

The left half of the screen suddenly turned white. A controller shouted:

"Turbolaser firing! "

Everyone had frozen. The screen was no longer legible, the cameras having been dazzled by the energy of the discharge. Finally, focus was restored and the command room was able to contemplate the the result of the counterattack.

Judd swallowed once. A quarter of the attacking formation was gone. He also saw that some bombers had been hit and were trying to leave the battlefield, framed by the fire of the hostile batteries.

The action was not over yet. The right side of the formation, which had not been fired upon, continued to move closer to the objective. They saw the bombs leave the bunkers and scatter over the target. Explosions appeared.

"Estimated losses: five lasers, four bombs" announced a checkpoint.

The admiral shouted: "Go ahead, boys! Make them pay!"

* * *

Although the ceiling of the "Destiny Blade" command post was armored, it resonated under the impacts, all went out, and the hissing of the air escaping into the space was heard.

A voice somewhere exclaimed: "Power supply and emergency lighting on!"  
Another station in the darkness added: "Turrets R24 and 27-3 out of order!"

The Admiral had given the order to fire just after the impromptu firing of the turbolaser battery. The bombing had been carried out, but because of the riposte it was scattered, and thus less effective.

"Aiming station, who fired first?"  
"Bunker Hill" replied the port manager. "They have changed their deflection parameters. We have them called before the engagement began to restore them, but they disobeyed and disconnected the guidance system"  
"And they did the right thing! Change the settings of the other batteries to the same and inform the gunners. The Reps may return"

"They've run out of ammunition, and given what they've taken, we've got a few hours" says a voice behind a console.

The Admiral didn't respond. It was well observed.

The light came back on. The shadows became faces again.

Louchké looked out over the bay. A few fires were visible. The groups of space firemen were out to put them out. He let his gaze wander off in front of the ship and jumped.

"We're drifting! "Is the wheelhouse back up?"  
"I can't get the steering back on" replied the starboard helmsman.  
"And port?  
"It's just gone out!"  
"What's going on?" Louchké asked "Navigation station?"

No answer. Heads turned towards the station in question, a little back from the bridge. A neighbouring operator stood up to the designated station, walked around it and froze.

"Oh, shit! He's dead! He's dead!"

One of the coxswains and the Electronic Warfare Officer rushed in and could only measure the extent of the damage.

A shrapnel had managed to penetrate the armoured ceiling and hit the navigator just above left ear. He then continued his trajectory by tearing off the right half of the jaw and finished his run on the station keyboard.

The blood-stained screen was off, and a small crackle came from the punctured keyboard. The three men raised their heads and saw the small oval hole in the ceiling, with jagged edges. The reddish foam of the self-seal was a little bit beyond the wound.

"Decidedly, one dies everywhere" thought Crebs, who had just arrived with Isse.

The helmsman put his hand on the collapsed navigator's neck against the screen and said:

"He's dead. He didn't have time to suffer, it must have been instantaneous"

Assisted by the operator, he lifted the corpse up and laid it on the ground. He came back to the station, turned it off, the restarted and waited a while. He stopped it again and said in a white voice:

"It won't start again. The guidance system is out of order!"

Even Louchké turned pale.

Isse shrugged her shoulders and said: "It's not so bad; there is a secondary command post, if I remember right?"

"It doesn't exist on this ship... we left too quickly" answered the admiral.

He replied in a loud voice:

"Gentlemen, if we don't find a solution in the next quarter of an hour, the ship is lost! The wheel of the first order to whoever unlocks this helm!"

Isse was startled. "What's the matter? Promise the highest decoration in the Empire? By what right?"

He was about to intervene, but an explicit look from Crebs held him back.


	18. Hangar Queen

A brief moment passed. Then a voice was heard. It was the chief electronics officer.

"Admiral, this equipment is standardized. If we have a simple TIE, we can take its module and plug it into our network. It'll have to be reprogrammed, of course, but..."

"Do we still have a TIE in the hangar?"

The hold manager sighed: "Alas, they've all gone to Dvar..."

The silence returned. The little flame of hope had just been extinguished.

Suddenly, the chief engineer cried out: "Yes, we still have one left! The Hangar Queen!"

This was the nickname given to the ill-fated ship, the bad business, which required ten hours of maintenance for an hour's flight. Every destroyer had its own ball and chain, which was usually used between two breakdowns for inter-ship connections.

"But wasn't it thrown into the space after the fleet left for Dvar?" Asked the hold manager.  
"No, I don't think so. The TIE was covered and near the workshops. I'm going there right now!"

He turned and walked out of the station.

One of the assembly members then said: "I hope they weren't working on his guidance module!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation there was some laughter.

Louchké took control of the situation: "Propulsion, slow ahead!"  
The engine manager replied: "Slow advance done!"

* * *

Republican bomber BW527 "Grim Reaper", Sven Anbar, Esan Dirlewanger, Diane Rajai.

After the bombing, the B-Wing was turned onto its back to stay behind the destroyer and avoid crossfire from the upper turbolaser turrets. However, they felt some impacts from the rear batteries.

Sven did a half roll to return to normal flight. The control panel was marked with warning lights. Esan flew over them with a trained eye and operated a few levers.

He announced: "Thermal divergence on the main thruster! I'm reducing thrust to 75!"

"It better drop" Sven grumbled, "Or we'll have to swim back!"

He added: "How are you doing, Diane? Did you get a chance to see the result?"  
"Not great. We must have had a quarter of the charges on the bridge. The rest went to waste on their armoured bridge"

A pause, then Diane's voice again: "I think I've been hit, Commander. I can't feel my left arm..."

The two men looked at each other. Sven said to Esan: "Go and see, I'll stay at the controls"

Sven had managed to control himself and speak in a professional voice, but the adrenaline rush almost took it all away. Now he was cold. He remained at the controls, stiff, mute, waiting for Esan's report.

Seconds passed, then minutes. He'd left to give in and ask to get news, when he heard in his headphones:

"Commander, the bomber Rajai had his left arm broken by a shrapnel. I bandaged it and gave him a transfusion..."  
"Don't worry, Sven, I'm in good hands!"

Sven sighed deeply.

"Hold on, Diane, we're going back to home! Esan, stay with her, I'll take care of the return trip"  
"Copy that, sir!"

Now we had to think about the rest of the training. He switched to the outside network:

"BW527 to squadron. Identify yourself and give your status. Over"

The other ships responded.

Sven did his accounts and felt his hair-raising. Only sixteen of them returned. Almost fifty percent casualties! Two crews had to abandon their aircraft and were picked up by another ship. They also brought back five dead and four wounded, not including Diane.

"We got trouncing for a trivial result" Sven thought. "They barely slowed down. It's going to scream on report!"

He called the mothership and gave it the information he had just gathered. He also made a brief inventory of the damage so that the mechanics could anticipate repairs and insisted on the presence of the injured. The mothership acknowledged him and silence fell again in the cockpit of the bomber.

Esan had just appeared to have sprung from the floor. Sven asked, suddenly worried:

"How's she going?"  
"No problem, she's sleeping. I've got her under surveillance, if there's a problem we'll be alerted"  
"Is she withstanding?"  
"I want to! She practically yelled at me when I sedated her!"

Sven couldn't stop laughing.

"She's got quite a strong character! How scared I was!"  
"Ditto, boss" answered the co-pilot in a dull voice.

The silence returned once again. It was Esan who broke it:

"How's the mission going?"  
"It's a disaster. We've lost fourteen ships. They threw us right back into the ropes"  
"The turbolaser at close range is unforgiving" replied the co-pilot. He added: "This was not usual"  
"Yes. They shouldn't have too many ideas like that, because in the end they would be quite capable of having the final say!"  
"They brought us on their own ground. We won't be able to deploy to destroy them from afar," added the co-pilot.  
"We'll have to get our attack frigates moving. There must be clear passages somewhere to catch them from behind"

The mission was over, we had to return to the mother ship to rearm and wait for orders.

* * *

The chief engineer was running down the main gangway of the ship. Lucky strike, this section is pressurized, he thought. If only we'd had to put on a wet suit!

He zigzagged between the soldiers sitting or lying along the corridor. Eventually he reached the service elevator that communicated with the workshops. Then he arrived in the offices next to the workshop itself. The mechanics, who had hardly anything to do since the fleet left, were playing cards or listening to music with headphones in their ears.

The chief kicked a metal door to make himself understood by everyone. All heads turned towards him.

"Chief!" exclaimed the second mechanic as he saluted.  
"Is the Hangar Queen still there?"  
"Yes chief! The "blacks" wanted to throw it away, but I stopped them! After all, they're just passing through!"  
"We have to disassemble the guidance module"  
"Right away, chief! I'm going with the electronics engineer!"  
"Wait a minute! We have to do it properly! Take the procedures tablet and follow it to the letter. I'll go with you"

"What's going on chief?" Asked one of the mechanics present.

"The ship is currently adrift, the bombardment screwed up the helm control. If the module we're retrieving doesn't work, it'll black hole for everyone!"

There was a bit of a chill in the audience.

"Yeah, well, we're going to do well on this one, concludes the electronics engineer"

The three men came out of the offices, entered the workshop and headed towards a covered form. The canvas was removed and a TIE appeared. It was an already old model, which had been disarmed to increase the inner volume during the connections between the ships.

The second engineer took a key out of his pocket and unlocked a panel covered with unintelligible codes and markings. A set of boxes connected to each other by a complicated network of cables and various fibres was then revealed in front of the three men.

"Oh shit!" said the chief engineer as he paled. "I didn't remember it being so old"

The second engineer carefully read another esoteric marking on a small plate right next to the access hatch.

"This is the first pre-series of this type" he read. "Indeed, it's been a few generations since then"  
"Maybe that's why this TIE has always been flawed" added the electronics engineer.  
"Well, well pooled or not, that's all we have left" replied the chief.

He concludes: "Take it down"

The electronics engineer went to work while the second engineer read him the instructions.

"I'm going back to the workshop to get a cart and call the chief electronics engineer" said the chief mechanic. Tell him to start getting ready to plug in all these devices.

The intercom at the chief engineer's station broke the silence on the command bridge.

He picked up the phone and listened for a long time. He ended up giving a long list of equipment to bring. At the other end of the line, the chief engineer had put the loudspeaker on and sent his guys to get the equipment. At the end, he hung up and went to the command bridge and addressed the admiral:

"Sir, they're bringing the module back. It is an obsolete model, the functioning is not guaranteed. If it doesn't work, there will always be the possibility to power the servos directly, but fine steering will then be impossible"

"Do the best you can, no one will judge us anyway" said the admiral.

The chief engineer arrived, accompanied by the electronics engineer and the wiring manager. Without a word they approached the navigation station, which had meanwhile been switched off and cleaned, and set to work.

"Find a way to change all the connectors!" grumbled the electronics engineer. "The equipment commission has struck again!"

The Material Commission was known throughout the Imperial Army for its aberrant technical choices and the corruption that plagued it in obtaining contracts.

The Chief Engineer replied, adjusting a connection box, "You must admit that there was a lot to be said for that! It was a real nightmare to operate!"  
"Hi guys, can't you hurry up a bit?" A helmsman intervened. "We have a ship to save!"  
"It's almost over" replied the chief electronics officer who had just lit a test case. "We'll be able to start the procedure"

He turned to the console and got it on. There was a burst of lights of all colours and frequencies on the box they had just painfully connected. The chief engineer looked at the screen of the test case.

"Shit! It won't pass!"

He grabbed a fiber emerging from the console and gently turned a small connector while watching the screen. Signs appeared.

"It's coming. What's it doing to the helm?"

A pause; then the two helmsmen announced that their stations were powered. The chief electronics officer then said to the admiral:

"We've got to check the servos. Can you order the helm of 10 from one side or the other?"  
"Starboard 10!" ordered the admiral in a loud voice.  
"Starboard 10!" replied the two helmsmen.

The ship sheered sharply and heeled to right. The admiral and the two imperial dignitaries had to cling to the railing to avoid falling over.

"To neutral!" ordered the admiral.

The ship stabilized, but retained its list. The chief electronics engineer said in a slightly nervous voice:

"Just a small adjustment of the gain..."

He busied himself on the screens and then turned back to the admiral again:

"Can you reorder the helm again?"

The admiral gave the orders, and the ship then turned obediently. The Chief Electronics Officer sighed deeply.

The chief engineer said: "Perhaps we should put a little more drift..."

"Don't touch anything more!" exclaimed the admiral. "We'll test the bars gradually, and you'll only intervene if absolutely necessary!"

He added to the helmsmen's attention:

"Get back on course! Propulsion, full ahead!"

Having done that, he turned to Crebs and Isse:

"Isse, now that this helm problem is solved, I must see you to work out the rest"

A little surprised, the commander of the Black Guard replied:

"Right, Admiral. To tell you the truth, I haven't the slightest idea of what lies ahead"

* * *

Republican BW527 "Grim Reaper" bomber.

The mothership filled the front windows of the ship. The hangar doors were open, the squadron, or what was left of it, had already docked. Sven, as commander had to be the last one to return.

The signal for access authorization appeared. Esan put the ship in slow motion, and passed the hangar porch. He followed the directions of the servitude robots and finally gently landed the bomber on the painted spot on the floor. The technical teams were already at work, including the ambulance.

Sven announced on the internal frequency:

"No more engines, no more helm!"  
"Copy that, BW527. Authorization to unship granted"

The bomber had become a pile of inert metal again. Esan left his seat and operated the levers to unlock the access door. The access ladder moved towards the fuselage, and attached itself to the fuselage. Sven heard the medical team enter and descend into the bomber station and hailed them:

"Look out guys! She's sedated!"  
"No problem, Commander, we'll put her on a stretcher"

He went out of the station so as not to get in the way. Esan was waiting at the bottom.

"Commander, the chief of operations is calling us to the debriefing room"  
"It's going to be the second front" Sven commented with a grimace.

Diane came down the ladder curled up in her shell, still asleep.

Sven, Esan and the other crews walked through a few corridors and eventually made their way into the large gear room. This room had a set of small tables, each for one crew. Everyone sat down. Esan looked around at the empty tables, or incomplete tables like theirs, ghosting the empty chairs.

The chief of operations entered. All rose to their feet.

"At ease! Squadron Leader reporting for duty!"

Sven stood and described the mission and how it was going.

"You say the left side of the formation was hit by a turbolaser fire?"  
"Affirmative, sir. You must have seen it through the telescopes"  
"Were you able to observe the result of your bombardment?"  
"Not directly, we immediately proceeded to evasive manoeuvres. But the viewfinder cameras recorded the impacts. The technical teams are now stripping them..."  
"We were able to estimate the success rate between 25 and 30% by enlarging the images taken with the telescopes" said the chief.

"Diane had well estimated her work" couldn't help but think of Sven.

The operations manager continued:

"Our radar measurements indicate that the target ship has slowed down significantly. You still had to inflict damage on it. The admiral ordered the speedway to catch up with him"

Sven wondered: "Won't there be another attack from the fleet on board?"  
"No, we'll be in laser gun range in two hours" answered the chief of operations.

He added: "The end of the story will be near"

"Maybe," thought Sven and Esan without consulting each other.


	19. The sentries

Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

The troop of prisoners, still led by the scouts, finally reached the republican base at the end of the second day after their capture.

Jay was in such a state of exhaustion that she didn't realize anything. She was trying to sleep while walking while opening her eyelids every ten steps, and even like that, she had been hit with the sticks for deviating from the column. Julius, who was behind her, was trying to guide her, and had himself been hit several times for speaking despite the ban.

They had to remain standing while the chief of scouts was arguing with the sentries in front of the gate. Finally, the orders were given, the wire mesh panel opened and the imperials were able to enter the base.

Reinforcing troops had been recalled and surrounded by a hermetic cord of soldiers; they entered a barbed-wire corridor at the end of which was another wire gate, more small.

About five metres from this gate was a folding table behind which stood three officers. In addition, two soldiers were standing next to the table, one of them carrying a high-resolution camera.

The soldiers who flanked them commanded: "Get down! Cross your legs!"

The detainees obeyed in no hurry. Jay wasn't angry when he sat down, and neither was the rest of the troop by the way.

At a sign from the officers, two soldiers detached themselves and grabbed one of the crouching prisoners.

"Rise up!" Say one of them.  
"You should know" Blom grunted, for it was he who had been chosen by fate.

The other soldier kicked him in the ribs. The convict got up without adding anything more. Flanked by the two watchmen, he was brought to the table.

"Your name?"  
"Samuel Blom, formerly corporal, penal sections"  
"Why are you in the penal section?"  
"I don't remember"

The middle officer intervened: "Stretch out your left arm"

The prisoner obeys. A chip reader was applied to the inside of the forearm and the third at table read on a screen:

"Corporal Samuel Blom, third airborne regiment, life sentence for the rape and murder of his platoon leader"

Jay remembered. So it wasn't just talk! The scoundrel who had taken them prisoner had been right, they had cracked the codes.

She thought it over and relaxed a little. After all, he wasn't likely to find much on her.

The camera was filming the scene.

They all passed by like this. It was just murder, rape and torture of various kinds, with some in a few robberies and hijackings of military equipment. Only Julius was the exception, he had been found in the criminal section for insubordination.

Finally, his turn came. The reader was diligent. There was a great silence. Everyone, jailers and prisoners were listening.

"Major Jay Hawkers, commanding officer of the second assault squadron..."

A moment passed. Then the voice resumed:

"Imperial flight school report: "Gifted pilot but in conflict with authority. Organizes cadet contest to distract and subdue the male students at the school" "

She almost burst out laughing. That was all they had found! She remembered, not without a touch of nostalgia, her years in flight school. She had actually played that and even won a fight against another younger, yet much prettier. What had become of her?

She drove the question out of her head. Bujac was the last one, and had just been called in. The same ceremonial repeated itself. She was intrigued. Normally, the ex-Jedi being senior staff, they had to find nothing.

A moment passed, a little long then the voice resounded again:

"Member of the special commandos of the Empire called "Ashes Burners" "  
"That's enough!" Cut the officer to the left of the table.

He stood up and addressed the assembly:

"There it is the last bulwark of the Empire! Rapists, murderers, and even a nymphomaniac! Those troops are a reflection of the regime we're fighting! The Republic can only defeat and sweep away this foul mire!"

He stopped and addressed the cameraman and his assistant.

"Do you have the shoot?"  
"Absolutely, Captain. We even took the coarse-grained filter for the lower species"  
"Perfect"

He turned to the soldiers who were supervising the prisoners.

"Search them and put them in the enclosure. We will proceed to the individual interrogations from tomorrow."

* * *

The prisoners were untied, and then underwent a final search in a small guardhouse, which was quite lean: three styluses, a few cigarettes of indeterminate material and a small dumpling of explosive. Yil, for it was on him that this discovery was made, received a solid beating as a bonus.

At last they were pushed into the enclosure, each with a grey blanket with wide ochre stripes across it. They were finally able to walk on the muddy ground without hindrance, giving Jay a wonderful feeling of freedom.

Finally, they were pushed into the enclosure, each with a gray blanket with large ocher stripes. They were finally able to walk on the muddy muddy ground, which gave Jay a great feeling of freedom.

"It's strange though" she thought to herself. "I'm a prisoner, but compared to these last few days, I'm almost feels on leave"

His gaze wandered through the gates. Suddenly his heart stopped.

Spade was looking at her, standing still.

She stared at him without lowering her eyes, and for a few moments their eyes met. Then, without having expressed the slightest expression, the scout turned around and left.

A voice to his left. It was Julius.

"Major, Blom found a corner a little drier. Bujac is already there. Would you like to come?"  
"I'll follow you"

She's joining the group. They were sitting in a circle, with a blanket over their heads to protect themselves against the drizzle that was beginning to fall. Two places were free. They sat down. She noticed a new head, which confusedly reminded her of someone, but she couldn't put a name to that face. It was the stranger who first spoke to her:

"Hello Major. I remember you well"  
"Hum..."  
"I'm Sergeant Shi Drehel, pilot of the TIE A04-11. I managed to throw up my ship on this damn planet, unfortunately near one of their outposts"  
"Has there been another crash?"  
"No major. I was the only one brought here. What about you? Your face?"  
"I took a laser hit in the face on my last firing pass. I was blinded, and it was my gunner leaded me to the planet"  
"He's here ?"  
"No, he's dead" answered Jay after a silence.

Bujac inserted himself into the conversation:

"How's it going here?"  
"They're well informed" replied the pilot. "They brought two R-Wings for reconnaissance and they had also an observation satellite over what is left of the imperial zone, but I believe it has been destroyed in the space battle"  
"What about the questionings?"  
"It was a little quick. They wiped out our attack fleet, and they saw what happened next. I had nothing to teach them. They just asked me a few questions about our mothership"  
"Why?"  
"Looks like things are getting pretty bad with the space fleet. They didn't tell me anything, but I did catch a few sentences when I go in for questioning. Apparently, they're having trouble attacking the "Destiny Blade""

Bujac couldn't help smiling. With Louchké, it was predictable.

Julius asked: "Did you hear anything else?"  
"When the transporters arrived, their commander ordered a general assault. They wanted to end it"  
"And so? "  
"For the moment, it still stands. They've been advancing on the northern front, but apparently it's slowed down. On sees a lot of medical ships go by. Their losses must be great"

"Ours too" couldn't help but think Jay.

* * *

The conversation then turned to more practical details. They learned the location of the sanitary facilities, meal times, electrified fence features, and much more again.

One thing was clear for the moment: any thought of escape was illusory. The enclosure was right in the middle of the base and surrounded by three electrified barriers. In addition, there were no permanent buildings that could be hiding anything.

"And yes!" concludes the pilot, "Here we sleep under the stars! Or more exactly under the stars, because the Dvar's celestial vault does not lack charm"  
"That makes up for a bit" replied Jay, "Because for the planet, it's really not that great! "  
"Well, now we'll have to settle down to sleep" said Julius. "The nights are rather cold in this moment..."  
"And I'm going to stretch my legs a bit" announced Bujac. "Major, you're coming with me to go round the Owner?"

Jay was exhausted, but she felt that Bujac hadn't invited her just to talk to him about the quality of the fences and the number of toilets. So she agreed. They left the group and began to walk along the fence. When the former Jedi got a little out of the way, the old Jedi stopped and turned toward her.

"Major, I've had a chance to speak with your gunner. He told me how you've been going last mission, and there are a few points in his story that I want to clear up with you"

Jay didn't show anything, but she was a little surprised. What did she care? She replied unemotionally:

"What do you want to know?"  
"When you came out of the big jump, you had an absence. That worried him; he thought there was a problem of oxygen. Is that correct?"  
"Yes, that's right. But it had no effect on the rest of the mission"  
"It's not really the mission I'm interested in. What happened?"

Jay appealed to her memory. It seemed extremely old to him, almost in a previous life, although these events were only four days old.

"Right after the booster was turned on, I felt like I was no longer alone, but watched from above, as if someone was astride the cockpit"  
"Was he talking to you? What was he saying?"  
"No, he wasn't talking to me. It was a conversation. There were two voices"

Bujac had frozen like a statue. He asked:

"And what were those voices saying?"  
"I can't remember exactly, it's very vague now. Just at the end, I had the impression that they were fighting"  
"What about their tones? Were they male or female voices?"  
"I can't tell. As far as I remember, they were very quiet voices, even during the argument"

A silence, then the defrocked Jedi resumed:

"He then described your manoeuvre with the two X-Wings just after the frigate was destroyed. How did you know to trigger your inverters?"  
"I felt it"  
"But how? You were wounded, blinded in your cockpit. Even under normal circumstances you couldn't see them unless you asked your machine gunner for the signal"  
"I can't explain it, but I sensed their presence and their position"  
"Two deflected shots on target, the way you were, that's amazing"

A new silence. This time it was Jay who broke it:

"What's your point?"

Bujac then began to speak:

"Among the Jedi, we have members who can detect spontaneous manifestations of force. We call them canaries, because they have a bit of a sentinel's role that used to serve as a toxic gas detector in the mines..."

Jay remarked: "In the old galleries, the bird was dying"

"It happens sometimes" replied Bujac in an equal voice. "Still, the look-outs detected for a few months now the presence of a new force. By cross-checking, it has been deduced that it was the Imperial fleet, then a space wing, then an assault squadron, then finally... you"

Jay shrugged: "I had nothing to do with this. I'm a soldier, a pilot, and these power plays are for me completely foreign. And I have no intention of dressing in rough fabrics and carrying an obsolete weapon on the belt"

"You don't understand. Brute force is very dangerous to the one who carries it. He can be possessed at a distance and then used as a tool against his will..."  
"Is that why you woke me up when we were tied up on the plain?"  
"Yes. Somebody is testing you"  
"Who's "somebody"?"  
"Siths, dark Jedi... maybe darker..."

He continued:

"If you let your guard down, you'll have moments of absence when you won't know what you do. You'll get longer and longer and longer... then you can wake up anywhere after you've done anything..."  
"That's lovely" Jay replied. "Is there a way out? Maybe suicide?"  
"We're not there yet" replied the former Jedi. "I'm here to help you"

"Help me or watch me?" Couldn't help but think Jay.

She looked the ex-Jedi straight in the eyes:

"Finally, you don't care if Dvar goes down or not. You're only here for this history of strength..."  
"It's a bit of a rough summary, but it's pretty accurate. Let's say that my official mission does not prevent me from make extras..."

Bujac turned to the group that was sitting in a circle to spend the night and keep warm.

"I think we should join them. Breaking the wheel later will make them lose heat"

Jay agreed and followed the man who would become his mentor.

"Disfigured, trapped and now half mad... But why on earth was I born?" she thought to herself in scrolling his cover to take his place.


	20. The clan

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Officer's Quarters.

Jed was still lying on his bunk. He had only piecemeal information about the situation, the images of the command post not being relayed on the general network. He had heard the bombing squadron departed, then time had passed and nothing filtered through.

"Bad sign", he thought.

He had experience in space battles, and when everything was going well, the crews were told almost in real time. The current silence did not bode well.

There he was, lost in thought, working out hypotheses, when the intercom crackled. He picked up the phone and recognized the voice of the squadron leader at the other end of the line.

"This is Sven Anbar. Are you still grounded?"  
"Sure I am. What's happened?"

Sven gave him a brief summary of his mission. Jed said:

"Louchke is a guy who's always dangerous. Although I don't think he had anything to do with the shooting turbolaser. If that had been the case, you would have been shot from both sides at once"  
"It's not untrue" admits the commander.  
"What did the Admiral decide?"  
"He considers that we must have hit the propulsion during the bombardment, because it slowed down considerably. We went full speed ahead to catch up with them"  
"Why?"  
"I don't know, sir. Maybe the Admiral's thinking of using a torpedo or a cannon to force them give it back"  
"You ask me, he's daydreaming. If the turbolaser is really the crew's idea, they must be hell-bent for breaking Reps"  
"Have you ever dealt with Louchké?"  
"Yes, we bit his calves before arriving in Kuat. He managed to roll back his entire fleet in good order with even a few counter-offensives to spice it up. We pushed him, but it had nothing to do with a military walk"

One pause, then Jed resumes:

"Actually, do you know where his ship's squadrons have gone?"  
"Yes, they went to attack Dvar. I don't know more, our local troops are on the move"  
"Thanks for calling in the commander. I guess you must be pretty busy..."  
"I've got to get to my bomber. She was wounded in the attack"  
"Good, I won't delay you. Thank you again for your call"

He hung up.

* * *

Imperial destroyer Class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", second starboard main artery.

In the admiral's apartment, Isse had passed through all the states. At first curious, then intrigued, appalled, revolted and finally resigned.

"This plan is fully mad" he said to himself as he walked with great strides in the wide corridor crowded with troops, "but there's no alternative. All in all, I'd rather this than surrender or end up frozen in the wide dark"

He finally arrived in front of the airlock of a technical room that had been requisitioned by the Black Guard. The let him passes.

The room had been cleared and the middle had a large open space. The soldiers had stacked tables on the periphery for use as bunks, which given the average size of the Black Guard required that sleeping curled up like a gun dog.

"Where are the centurions?"  
"They're at the usual. The supplies are disgusting, and they went to clear things up" replied a death trooper from under an upturned table.

Isse repressed a movement of irritation. That's the cream of the Empire! All they think about is eating!

"It's the fact that one fights better on a full stomach" he could not help adding, which brought down a little his irritation.

He sighed. "Well, I'll go get them"

He went out of the room, went back down the corridor in the opposite direction, took a side alley, and arrived at the dining hall. The room was crowded and there was a great deal of commotion. He elbowed his way closer to the centre where most of the commotion originated.

The spectacle itself was quite astonishing. The steward hung his head one metre above the floor, suspended by the ankle to arm's length by one of the centurions. The head cook, not exactly reassured, was trying to reason with the other five elite NCOs around him.

"You're told that for cooking, energy is rationed!"  
"And that the rations are the same for everyone!" Bidding the steward upside down.

Isse said in a loud voice : "What's going on here?"

The six troopers turned their heads, recognized their leader, and immediately stood at attention, except the one that carried the steward. Isaiah commanded the rest, and spoke to the nearest centurion:

"I repeat: centurion Nouri Peters, what's going on?"  
"General, the food is cold and foul. These rats are saving the best rations for the crewmates"

In space crews, where everyone lived together for months, one of the central themes of discussions was food, with its share of gossip and frustration. Even with his recruited staff in a hurry, the Destiny Blade was no exception.

Isse turned to the centurion who continued to hold the suspended steward:

"Repose him and salute"

Without a word, the NCO executed himself. Isse then turned to the steward who was recovering painfully standing:

"Give them what they want"  
"Commander, that's impossible! -I can't! I must have a written order from the Admiral!"

Isse grabbed the space officer by the collar, brought him closer to his face and spoke to him of a very sweet voice:

"Listen to me, oyster face. In three hours this ship will be in the middle of a fight. And my boys in will be in the front row. If you want a chance to get on with your miserable life, you'd better serve them well. Is that understood?"

"Yes, General" stammered the steward, nodding frantically.

Isse then passed to the cook:

"Get your staff and get to work. For the cooking, you will do as they ask"

The chef looked at him stupidly. He repeated:

"Are you still there? Run behind your stove!"

The cook disappeared in a flash.

The circle had widened, the only people left in the middle of the room were the commander and the six "Death Trooper". The commander then addressed the six NCOs:

"You've got twenty minutes to get something to eat. Then I want you to go to the local, we have a lot of things to prepare. The rest of the troop will then go by groups of thirty every fifteen minutes"

He left the refectory and headed for the command post.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command bridge.

Admiral Rousseau had listened to the report of the Chief of Operations, which only confirmed what they had observed on the screens. He nevertheless learned that the losses had been very high, which did not surprise him.

"Is it the effect of the firing of their damn turbolasers?"  
"Yes, Admiral. It scattered our formation and the bombardment. We would still have had some casualties, but not as many"  
"Why did they do that?"  
"They took a chance and fired on their command post. If the aiming isn't perfect, it could scuttle the ship. It's very dangerous, but it paid off"  
Judd said, who had just infiltrated the conversation: "To do that, they must be really desperate"

The chief of operations looked at him like a fly in a glass of milk.

"In dire straits, they have been all along" he replied in a rather annoyed tone.  
"They're still at reduced speed" the Admiral continued. "We'll soon be within range of a stellar torpedo. That should keep them in check"  
"Torpedoes, Admiral? But I thought you wanted to capture that ship..."  
"If those rabid rabble don't surrender, I'll scatter this tub! That nebula will be denser than it will be left!"

He turned to the transmission stations and asked:

"What's the status of our frigates? Have they finally found channels to take them from the rear?"  
"They're still looking, Admiral. The "Alderaan's Spirit" is the most advanced, but its trajectory is pulling her away from our objective and she's already lost four space probes"

The Admiral made a gesture of impatience.

"They're going to have to activate! The last thing we want is they get away from us!"

Judd glanced around the command post from the bridge. Ever since the bombing, the mood had changed, now more focused, heavier too.

"Even the admiral is getting into it", he thinks to himself. He had twice offered him a drink or a small snack, and had been rebuffed each time under the ironic gaze of some technician, and more embarrassingly, of a few female operators.

"Torpedo range in one hour!" announced a voice calmly behind a screen.  
"I can't wait for the end", Judd thought. "Let's finish this damn mission and go back to Kuat to resume our good little habits"

* * *

Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

Jay and the other prisoners felt the slight warmth of the dull Dvar suns on their faces. Strangely, the base was still silent. This tickled Jay, who turned to his neighbor who was also emerging;

"It's always like that, Shi? The Reps are sleeping late?"  
"Truth is, there are few night operations", answered the pilot."They are not equipped for that and the Fog doesn't make it any easier. There are only scorpions to dare to go, but they are not very many... For what I've seen since I've been here, it'll start to come alive in half an hour."

"Interesting that", Jay noted for herself. She resumed the conversation:

"What about the interrogations? "  
"Depends on the operation. Usually it's in the afternoon, unless they consider you a case Interesting. Expect to be summoned first, it's not every day they get a senior officer on hand"  
"You learned all this in three days?"  
"No, Major. I've been talking to some guys who've been here about two months. There are no older prisoners, they regularly take them on the supply shuttles, probably to prevent of having too much to watch out for"  
"Where are they taking them?"  
"No one knows"

That's reassuring, Jay says to herself.

Bujac had just emerged from his cover. He looked at her without saying a word and she read the mute question on his face. She made a discreet sign of denial and he agreed as well.

The three prisoners got up and stretched. Other forms began to stir under their blankets. We saw the same sight around, like a hatching of new and clumsy insects. It struck Jay.

"Larvae, that's what we're becoming..."

She stiffened, took off the blanket she was wrapped in and folded it carefully. She had a little cold in her filthy denim, but she was certainly the highest ranking officer in this camp, and it forced her to not let go.

She also remembered that she hadn't washed for five days. She turned to Shi again:

"Is there any shower here?"  
"Yes, once a week"

Jay almost choked.

"You've got to be kidding me, Sergeant!"  
"Halas no, Major" But he continued with a smile: "Don't worry too much about that. The intelligence officer has a sensitive nostril, and they'll certainly give you a bit of a wash before questioning you."

They heard a slight hissing sound. A kettenspeed, small hybrid vehicle, half land speed, half tracked, appeared towing a trailer.

Shi exclaimed: "Here's the coffee!"

The prisoners moved in a mass to the gate. Jay stood motionless with his arms folded, gazing with a little disgusted look the herd clumped together to collect their daily food. Bujac, who was also stayed away and asked her:

"Aren't you hungry, Major?"  
"Not right now"

A pause, then she said:

"This reminds me of my childhood. My mother always reminded us never to rush into a buffet no matter what it costs you"  
"Where are you from?"  
"From power, from Coruscant. A Very good family. We've given generations of high officials to the republic, then to the empire"  
"Do you have brothers and sisters?"  
"Yes, two brothers, the eldest and then a younger sister. Both have good careers, close to the first order"  
"Only close?"  
Jay replied with a smile: "Given the circumstances, you have to be discreet in your loyalty. The clan knows how to protect himself very well"  
"What about your little sister?"  
"She had a very nice wedding with another big family. I was only a lieutenant at the time, but I still made a little impression at the ceremony"  
"What about you?"  
"I never wanted to be like the other girls, get married and become a layer. At first it made my mother despair, but fortunately my sister reassured her a little"  
"In short, you're like the black sheep of the siblings..."  
"Yes, and considering the state of my face, it's not likely to get better!" concludes Jay, laughing.

Bujac looked towards the entrance. The crowd was beginning to thin out.

"We're going to have to go, Major. It'd be a shame to fast"  
"Let's go since we have to. It's better to be in control during the interrogations"

They set off in no hurry.


	21. Running on the ridge

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Central Infirmary.

Sven was going to join Esan at Diane's bedside. The infirmary was far from full, but the arrival of the wounded from the bombing squadron had created some excitement. He saw Diane lying on a medical bunk in the light casualty section with Esan beside.

As Sven walked forward, he could not help but glance at the back door to the other section, that of the seriously injured, which was separated by flexible partitions into small individual cells. It recognized other crews who were doing the same thing as him and that made him uncomfortable. Esan pulled him out of this gloomy reverie:

"Chief, she just came out of anesthesia"

He then heard a pasty, but nevertheless surprisingly clear and childlike voice from the bunk:

"How long was I in the blur?"

Esan too had been surprised by the voice. It was no longer at all the solid and professional bomber who was talking, but someone much more spontaneous, who had just enjoyed the momentary eclipse of the fighting her way to the surface.

The two men looked at each other and smiled. Sven said:

"About two hours, Diane. That's not much in a woman's life"  
"How's it look? How's the hunting coming?"  
"We've slowed them down. The admiral wants to catch them and force them to surrender"  
"That's good. Let's just catch them and get it over with"  
"It shouldn't be long now" replied Esan. "They're at the end of their rope"

Sven wasn't sure anymore, but he kept quiet. A medical droid arrived and stood in front of the bunk. and scanned the patient's data. A synthetic voice was heard: "Female patient Diane Rajai: stable, healing in progress. Please don't get agitated, which would be likely to move your humerus. Estimated consolidation time: three weeks. You will remain for two more hours for observation before returning to your neighbourhood where you will be placed in convalescence"

The droid then moved to the other section. "No doubt to lend a helping hand to other robot doctors" Sven thought.

Then Diane said: "Have you eaten guys?"

It was totally unexpected, but not without good sense. Indeed, the standard procedure for returning crew's mission was to meet in the mess hall after the report. But nothing had happened like usually in this operation.

"You're right Diane" says Esan, "We haven't eaten yet. We'll go and pick you up afterwards to drive you back to your cabin"  
"Okay, go ahead"

The two pilots greeted her and left the infirmary for the mess hall.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", port hold, upper gunner S7-31 "Bunker Hill".

Hanson couldn't believe it, and neither could his three crewmates. All four of them were around the table, with a small bottle of spirits in the middle. (Strictly forbidden aboard military vessels, both imperial and republican).

A first tour had already taken place, all the faces were smiling and relaxed.

Vierbein spoke the first: "A personal communication from the Admiral! If I was expecting it!"  
"And broadcast on the general circuit!" added Haberg.  
"I thought it was the defense center that reminded me!" Hanson added, bursting out of laugh. "And you, Josse, what do you think?"  
"That it's only the beginning! They need to learn what it feels like to get their asses kicked!"  
"It won't be long now. I'm going back to the usual, black people are filling their belly. We'd better fight or we'll all starve to death"

Virbein intervened: "But how's "The Cobra" gonna do it"  
"No idea. But I'd be surprised if the Reps let us down after what they've just taken"  
"Maybe he wants to lose them in that damn nebula..." emitted Haberg.  
Josse answered: "So we'll all starve and freeze to death waiting to reach an imperial base? No, for my sake, he's going to seek contact"

Without a word, Hanson filled the glasses again. He put the now empty bottle down and was about to pronounce a toast when he froze. The bottle had just moved by itself on the table. Slowly and smoothly it moved towards the table inside the ship, as well as the glasses, although to a lesser extent.

Everyone around the table had observed the phenomenon. Hanson pulled himself together and took his glass. The three others did the same. Haberg said:

"Are they still adjusting the helm? "

Virbein replied: "I hope not! That's all we need now!"

Hanson took a quick look at the screens: "No, the ship is flat. It looks more like a force of attraction"

Virbein commented soberly: "It looks like the helmsmen are running on the dragon's crest"

"Running on Dragon's crest" was a space sailor's expression that the ship was dangerously close to the attraction of a star and in danger of crashing or being swallowed up by it.

"They'd better watch out, the Reps are going to have a good laugh if we end up in a devourer!"

Hanson concludes: "Let that not stop us from drinking!" He raised his glass:

"To our health, to the ship and to the Empire!"

Everyone drank, then the glasses were rested and continued their silent advance. Virbein caught up with his just before he reached the edge of the table.

No sooner had he grasped it than the lights went on at night. The darkness was only pierced by the screens and the reddish glow of exit identification. A message was displayed and flashed.

Hanson read ad says: "The entire port side crew is consigned. What does it mean?"

Josse answered: "That for the moment we're not involved"

He lay down on the bench in the common room. Virbein did the same on the other bench while Hanson and Haberg went to lie on the berths, because it was their rest period. The four men then tried to sleep, waiting for the signal to wake up.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The Commander was concerned. The ship was moving at reduced speed through the maze of devourers. In truth, the situation was totally out of control, since good space navigation is precisely to avoid them.

The captain said in a loud voice: "Two seconds to port!"

"Probe three. Four miles free!" announced an operator somewhere in the station.

Two probes had already been lost, torn apart by the forces of gravity. The standard provision of the frigates being six, there was still room to move forward. The commander thought of the "Alderaan's Spirit" that had just lost its last probe. He really didn't want that to happen to him is coming. He thought:

"They must really clenched buttocks. I hope for their sake that they've been taking intermediate points, because otherwise it's going to be very dangerous"

He had ordered the radio console to stop broadcasting messages from the other frigates, both to improve the concentration of the job, but also and above all to avoid subjecting them to stress that all crews were experiencing in the same situation. He thought:

"It would only be necessary to witness the agony of a ship in live!"

The radio console call him: "Message from the Admiral! I'll put it through to you in Visio!"

Admiral Rousseau's face appeared on the small screen on the bridge:

"Commander, what's your status? "  
"We are on a parallel course to the objective, Admiral. But it is impossible for the moment to target it, the devourers would absorb the rays"  
"You still haven't found a cross-channel"  
"No, Admiral. But we'll get out of this mousetrap eventually. Real dead ends are very rare"

"At least for all we know", he says for himself. "There aren't many captains that have had to do what we're trying to do"

"Well, keep me posted. We're right on their tail in the same channel, and we'll attack them in half an hour"  
"At your service Admiral"

The screen became dark and plain again. The commander heard a voice behind him:

"Semyon, what did the Admiral want?"

It was the navigation officer.

"Nothing, as usual" replied the commander. "It must be that he likes to waste his time"

He sighed, and then continued:

"We've got ourselves into a hell of a beehive. The whole fleet against a single destroyer!"  
"Yes" replied the navigator. "And he's found a way to break us up. This Louchke is one hell of a sailor!"  
"I don't believe in a long-range plan. He must improvise as we do" replied the commander.

The navigation officer shook his head negatively. He was an old man, who had wandering all over the space for a long time by doing space cabotage before joining the Republican fleet. He ends up saying:

"I'm not so sure about that. There are plenty of channels, yet he committed himself without hesitation and without sending any probes, the scanners are formal. He must know more about this area than we do"

The commander didn't answer. The arguments were not irrelevant.

At that point, the NCO of the planetary forces entered the station. The commander and the navigator turned their heads towards the newcomer.

It was the LRSS (Long range Space Squad) NCO who had been sent by Jed Koinsky as a liaison officer with the attack fleet. He saluted the captain and went to the bridge. The commander asked:

"So, Sergeant, what's the news from the galaxy?"  
"It's slamming hard on Dvar" replied the NCO. "We've eaten away at them again, but these fanatics don't give up"  
"We'll see with these" intervened the navigator. "They may be of the same calibre"

A tense voice behind a screen announced suddenly: "Probe three in divergence!"

The two space officers stiffened. The Commander ordered:

"Proceed with the extraction procedure!"  
"It's already done, Commander! We started pulling it out as soon as the gravitational thresholds triggered !"  
"That's going down!" Announced another position.  
"We're regaining control" said the first console.  
"Take it easy" advised the commander. "Short impulses!"

The operator was strumming in the silence of the station. Finally he raised his head and turned to the bridge:

"All right, we got it back. Let's go forward with a ten-second correction"

Tension decreased in the station and on the bridge. The captain sighed quietly. He replied to the probe operator:

"Good job. Let's get on with it"

The navigation officer, who had been silent since the problem with the probe, turned to the liaison officer and said:

"Do you still have contact with Kuat's antenna?"  
"Yes officer" answered the scout.  
"If I remember correctly, there are in Kuat the archives of the spatial harbourmaster. It's a small building next to the main construction site. Can you ask your officers to go there to look at the Mercy reports?"  
"Of course, officer, I can do that"

The commander agreed: "Excellent idea, Kern"

The NCO saluted and left the post.


	22. Blackout

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", second starboard main artery.

The centurions had returned from the refectory. Isse had put four adjoining tables in the middle of the room so that she could spread maps and diagrams. They discussed for a while, and then the six NCOs went into the corridors to prepare their teams.

Isse thought back to the conversation he'd had with the admiral. In anticipation of the coming fighting, he was to take under his command not only his two Black Guard regiments, but also all the Empire troops aboard the ship, including the crew.

They had agreed to immediately mobilize Homeland Security, then the artillerymen, the technical staff and finally all the support functions.

"It's going to be funny for the cooks and secretaries to fire the shot against the Reps forces"

He went to the office of the colonel of the internal security regiment. That regiment, systematically embarked on all the Empire's cruisers, depended directly on the command imperial and had orders to receive only from him. Its main mission was to maintain the discipline in the ship and to provide counter-espionage.

He opened the door without knocking. The colonel was behind his desk, eating a well-stocked tray with a secretary. A few bottles were also lying around on the table. Isse remembered what his centurions had told him in the refectory. He stopped in front of the office and showed the door with an unequivocal gesture to the officer's girlfriend. The latter looked at the colonel, who replied by saying a nod in agreement. She left without looking at the intruder. When the door closed, Isse spoke:

"Colonel, I've come to take command of your troops"  
"I don't have to take orders from you. Internal security is the exclusive purview of the cabinet imperial. Get out, and let me finish my tray"

Isse leaned over the desk and swept the tray across the room, carrying some bottles in its flight.

"Contact them! Immediately!"

The colonel suddenly rose above the table. A seedling had just emerged from a nearby office, blaster drawn. Isse didn't even look at it. He continued in a calm voice:

"Tell your henchman to sheathe"  
"And then what?"

At that moment there was a knock at the door. The colonel looked up at Isse and shouted in an aggressive voice:

"What's up?"  
"Imperial representative" replied a calm voice.  
"Come in" replied the colonel, making a grimace.

Crebs entered the office and gently closed the door behind him.

"That's all right, Colonel, you wanted an imperial representative in the cabinet, and here he is in front of you in the flesh and in the seal"

He took the imperial holographic pendant he was wearing around his neck out of his shirt and put it under the officer's nose.

The colonel turned pale, discreetly flagged his prescription, which instantly disappeared, and responded to the ex Jedi without a glance at Isse:

"Excellence, I am at your command"  
"Good, excellent, I would expect nothing less from you. I therefore command you, by virtue of the authority which has been entrusted to me by the Imperial Council, to place you immediately under the command of the Commander of the Black Legion Ayad Isse here"

"At your orders, Excellency!" replied the officer, who had turned scarlet with rage, in a loud voice.

Isse took his hand in a professional tone:

"What is your strength?"  
"Seventy-five men"  
"Administrators included?"  
"No commander. There are thirty investigators and secretaries"

"No wonder we're losing the war", Crebs thought. "If a third of the manpower does not serve the Reps will soon be marching on Coruscant with champagne and cotillion"

Isse continued:

"They'll have to be armed and framed. I also want an inventory of their individual weapons"

Indeed, the management of the ships' armoury was a matter for Homeland Security. The Colonel immediately called his office man, who this time arrived unarmed and went back for the information requested. The three men then discussed the tactics to be adopted. Isse ordered him to select twenty-five operatives to mix with the Death Trooper. The remaining fifty would have to supervise the artillerymen and the rest of the personnel who would then form the mass of fighters.

This order made the colonel tick:

"Commander, what will be the mission of the Death Troopers?"  
"That's none of your concern at the moment. Just choose your men. I also want to talk to the fifty of you will have chosen to lead the crew"

The officer nodded. Isse pointed out the various rallying points and left the office to go back to the command post with Crebs.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The airlock door opened. The LRSS liaison returned to the station. The navigation officer turned the head and asked him:

"Any news from Kuat?"  
"Yes" replied the sergeant. "A team from the LRSS went to the harbour master's office. Everything has been erased"  
"All the data of mercy?"  
"All. It was done after the destroyer left"  
"After? What does that mean?"  
"That Louchké probably didn't have time to come up with the plan right away"

The sergeant continued:

"But once he adopted it, he had to contact imperial agents on the spot to prevent us to get to the maps and get a sense of what's ahead"

The commander intervened:

"We've got to tell the admiral right away! Let him get us all out of this quagmire, and let him set up an blockade operation!"

He turned to the communication station:

"Call the "Emancipator"! On the blue line!"

The operator leaned over his keyboard. For a moment we heard the sound of the keys and toggles, then he looked up at the bridge and said:

"Commander, I have no communication on any frequency. It's all scrambled"

* * *

Republican base at Biem Hoa, prisoner's inclosure.

It was dusk and nothing had happened. The same vehicle had appeared at the beginning of in the afternoon, and a bland mashed potatoes had been served in the bowls. Jay was disappointed and worried. She had prepared herself for an interrogation, and seeing nothing coming, she wondered what that would be like meant. To pass the time and take her mind off things, she struck up a conversation with Julius:

"I hear you're coming up in criminal court for insubordination. Isn't that a little steep to pay ?"  
"You're right Major" replied the former Sergeant with a smile. "It is not the punishment provided for in the settlement. But my superiors had to cover themselves"  
"Where did it happen?"  
"In Kalaan. A secondary front. I was leading a platoon of TB-TT in a convoy to supply a from our lookout forts when we were ambushed on the RC4. My officer then lost it"  
"I've known pilots who've served in that campaign. The RC4, the pass road, the "transfusion" as they called it..."  
"That's right. Still, he ordered the column to turn back. I wasn't All right, so I disobeyed and retreat my section at a height near the road"  
"And?"  
"The rest of the troop that had followed the orders were wiped out. But to cover them up, the local command decreed that the convoy had been abandoned to its fate by my section and that I was responsible for the disaster. So I was arrested, tried, sentenced and sent to Dvar to serve my sentence"  
"You got here before the battle?"  
"Three months before. I was working in the mine. We were wearing parts like extractor shares or conveyor bearings"

Yil arrived there and joined in the conversation.

"Well Major, are you trying to get the chief in your side?"  
"Keep your mouth shut a little, said the ex-sergeant. What did you manage to steal with them this time?"  
"Not much, they're suspicious" Yil replied, taking a small screwdriver out of his sleeve.

He added with a knowing smile: "That's crazy anything you leave lying around in a vehicle!"

"I should have known when I saw you volunteering to carry the soup"  
"Any pain deserves a pay check, chief!"

Jay inquired: "Have you recovered from the beating?"

Yil burst out laughing. Then he said:

"The truth is, Major, I did everything I could to get them to find that pellet!"

"You have to know how to give one thing to camouflage another"  
"And what had you hidden?"  
"An even bigger pellet. And a detonator!"

Jay was about to respond when the horn indicating that soldiers were entering the chain-link enclosure sounded. This meant that prisoners had to step back and settle more than ten meters from the gate, otherwise they would be shot. Jay and her two interlocutors being outside this forbidden zone, they were just spinning their heads.

Two soldiers came in, went through the herd of prisoners, and one of them said with one powerful voice:

"Major Jay Hawkers is to accompany us. Get her out of line!"

Jay advanced without hesitation. She found herself in the cleared strip of land and stopped in front of the two Republicans:

"Here I am, soldiers"

That's all. The other soldier, who had not yet uttered a single word, took out a bond and bound the wrists behind her back, and then he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her in front of him, while her comrade was watching the rest of the inmates.

They went out and the gate locked behind them.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command bridge.

The distance had begun to increase again, which surprised the admiral and most of the officers present.

"What's going on? They were almost adrift and now they're speeding up again? We wouldn't have so you didn't hit the propulsion?"  
"Maybe they fixed it?" Hasarda Judd.

Rousseau asked at the weapons console: "They must be in range, right?"

"Only the turbolasers, Admiral"  
"Open fire then!"

Orders were sent to the batteries, and all felt under their feet the tingle of recoil of the turbolasers. The strokes of coherent light began to streak across the void.

"The devourers are disrupting the aiming" remarked the weapons officer.

The Admiral had a gesture of impatience. He was getting tired of this command, of this never-ending pursuit, of this enemy that kept coming and coming. He turned to the propulsion console and said without reply:

"Full speed ahead!"

The operators looked at him in amazement. The most senior officer rose from his console, bowed and answered:

"Admiral, we're in danger of collision! And we don't know the space in front of us..."

Rousseau took his inspiration to shut him up when the detection station intervened:

"Turbolaser fire! Jamming activated!"  
"It's their side batteries that are firing" added a voice.  
"Are they getting in the way?" Asked the Admiral.  
"Maybe they're trying to stand in our way" said Judd.  
"That would be foolish of them" remarked the Weapons Officer. "We can fire on the front of all our ordnance, while across the way they lose half their batteries"

The screens were covered with lines of light, twisted by the ship's protective devices. This lasted about a minute, and then suddenly everything was clear, and only the shots from the the "Emancipator" remained visible.

"Stop firing! " Ordered the Admiral.

The screens became dark again, and the command room was only lit by the diffuse radiation of halos of matter around the black holes. Their target was gone.

"Gee!" said the Admiral. "So they would have been able to repair their thruster?"  
"He may have taken a secondary channel" said the navigation officer.  
"We must be sure of that" replied Rousseau. He turned again to the propulsion console: "Full ahead!"

"Wouldn't we rather send a probe or an R-Wing?" asked the chief of operations. "We don't know too much where they're lurking or what they're up to..."

The admiral shrugged his shoulders and replied, in a hurry to get it over with:

"Let's go, they're hard-pressed. He would no longer miss us!"  
"The frigates may have seen something" remarked the navigation officer.  
"Good idea! Make a general call!"

The communications console was busy for a moment, and then the operator raised his head from the screen and declared in a slightly worried voice:

"Admiral, we've lost communication with the frigates. There's a jamming transmitter covering all the frequencies"  
Judd asked: "What does that mean?"  
"That he hasn't fixed his thruster, that it's still there, and that he's up to something" replied the chief operating officer in a slow, deaf voice.

The tension rose immediately. Rousseau addressed the detection station:

"Do you still not see anything?"  
"There's nothing in sight, Admiral. The other sensors are disturbed by the gravitational fields"  
"Slow ahead. How long until we reach the point where he disappeared?"  
"Twenty minutes, Admiral."  
"Good. Put the batteries on alert and keep moving. We'll soon find out for sure"


	23. Like a sling

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", command bridge.

Inside the command post, the atmosphere was so concentrated that even the air seemed to have become viscous. There was a gravely silence, briefly crossed by a command from the bridge or a crackling keyboard. Breaths were measured, as if the slightest noise could break the spell.

At least that's how Crebs felt as he passed through the airlock. He and Isse climbed onto the bridge without a word, and sat behind the admiral, who didn't even give them a glance.

Louchké had changed the ship's course about twenty minutes ago. He had watched for the change in gravity, and when it had appeared had ordered the ship to turn hard to starboard and to proceed at full speed perpendicular to the channel.

The helmsmen had not hesitated for a second.

"The admirals pass, the fleet remains" said the admiral for himself a little proud in his heart of the traditions of space navy discipline.

This was the decisive moment, as the destroyer had to break its speed and expose itself to the fire of its pursuer during the rotation. All the starboard batteries had been put on alert and had fired an intense shot, more to mask the manoeuvre than to inflict damage on the pursuing destroyer.

Once this phase of the plan was completed, the danger had simply changed in nature. The ship was now racing at full speed, flush with the radius of attraction of the gigantic black hole that formed the lateral limit of the channel. The corrections ordered by Louchké were counted in degrees, then in minutes, then in seconds.

The ship, despite its size, trembled and vibrated like a podracer at full power.

Crebs thought: "He uses the black hole as a slingshot. That's a good point, but it won't be enough to make us lose the fleet..."

After ten minutes, the trajectory stabilized, the orders became less frequent, and the tension dropped several degrees. The spectacle offered by the large panoramic window was simply extraordinary. Contemplating a black hole at this distance was a unique experience, even though space travel had long since become routine. Crebs and Isse, earthlings after all, were fascinated by the landscape.

It was the Admiral who broke the spell. He took out of his pocket an object which the two men did not recognize, took a quick look at it, and said, turning his head towards Isse:

"Colonel, contact is scheduled in one hour"

Isse understood the implicit order. He nodded his head, gave Crebs a brief glance, and left the command post without a word.

Once Isse left, Crebs called upon his memory and eventually remembered that he had seen this kind of thing in museums or private collections. He addressed Louchké:

"Is this an old timepiece?"  
"A marine chronometer to be precise"  
"Where did you get it? These pieces are extremely rare"  
"By family heirloom. I have no idea how my ancestors obtained it. It is engraved"  
"Did you get a chance to read the inscription?"  
"It was difficult. It's protohistoric writing. A specialist at the Imperial Conservatory finally deciphered a name and a date"  
"Which ones?"  
"Trafalgar bay. October 21st, 1805"

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", fourth port side artery.

The order came in about five minutes ago. Hanson read it and was startled. He forced the light on and shook Haberg, who snored beautifully. The other two, who were dozing on their benches, had already got up and were waiting for instructions.

"Everyone up! We have to evacuate the station!"

Josse asked in a pasty voice: "Where to?"

"Rallying point, fourth artery on the port side!" replied the sergeant.

He added: "Get Quackin! We have to bring back all the suits and oxygen, turret equipment included!"

The four men got up, Josse and Virbein quickly climbed the ladder to put on the suits and bring back the oxygen tanks stored in the turret. Meanwhile, Haberg started the decommissioning procedure. He sighed:

"I feel as if I'm being euthanized"

Hanson replied, putting on his suit : "Blah, it's like going on leave"

"I've got a bad feeling about this. I think I see my technical bays for the last time..."  
"Stop that, your next firing post will be in a captured Republican frigate, latest model, all options included!"

The engineer smiles.

"Yeah, you're right. But I still want to take a souvenir with me"

He took a screwdriver out of one of his pockets and started to remove the station's ID tag, just above the main screen. Hanson rolling their eyes. He thought:

"I really got command of a strange platoon"

Josse and Virbein then appeared at the top of the ladder. They came down, each carrying three bottles.

"We took all we could" said Virbein. "Josse blew out the accumulators and placed all the locking pins"

The aimer asked both the sergeant and the engineer: "Where are you?"

"It's over" replied Haberg.

The lights had just gone out, only the phosphorescent marks still providing a semblance of visibility for a while.

Hanson added, helping Haberg put on his suit: "Don't drag. Decompression will start in two minutes"

Once the suits were tested, the sergeant opened the airlock and everyone entered. Hanson was the last one out. They walked down the dark side corridor that led to the rally point. They passed another airlock, then cut off the oxygen to their suits and took off their helmets, the fourth port traffic artery being pressurized.

The wide corridor was almost crowded. They recognized a few gunners from nearby turrets, and then realized that the entire port side of the ship had been evacuated. Haberg grumbled after sitting on the bottles they had laid along the wall:

"What does that mean? They want to cut half the ship apart to go faster?"

An NCO from the Internal Security Regiment then appeared at the end of the corridor, followed by two soldiers each pushing a cart. Josse relieved:

"A dog with plate? What's he doing here?"

Hanson motioned for him to be quiet. Although the members of Homeland Security were not appreciated by the crews, this was not the time to add more.

The NCO stopped in front of him and asked:

"Your assignment?"

He replied in a salute: "Sergeant Hanson, port battery S7-31"

"Ah, you're the queens of the day" replied the NCO with a smirk on his face.

He added, turning to the two soldiers who had remained behind him: "Well, well, you'll soon be able to continue to shine"

Hanson stepped forward and saw that the first cart was filled with rifles while the second was carrying a mixture of energy clips and grenades.

At a sign from the NCO the first soldier handed Hanson two rifles and the second soldier gave him four clips and six grenades. Hanson asked:

"What should I do with them? We're artillerymen, not infantrymen"  
"I don't know and I don't care" replied the NCO. "The orders are: two rifles and six grenades per turret crew. You will receive the orders in due course"

With these words he signalled to the two assistants and proceeded down the corridor to the next group.

"Well, that's something!" Haberg exclaimed. "Are we going to have to make the shot now?"

"That'll remind you of your classes" replied a somewhat mocking Virbein.

Only Josse said nothing. Hanson noticed it and hailed him:

"Hey Josse, what do you think?"  
"It only means one thing: there's going to be a collision"  
"You're joking!"  
"I am? And why do you think the admiral evacuated half the ship? That's where it's going to collide"  
"Don't you think the Reps are going to storm the ship?"  
"Maybe. But I don't think so. So far they've acted more to collect our reissue, not to attack us in force"  
Haberg hazarded: "This kind of operation is rather rare"  
Josse replied jokingly: "You can say that! We're going to write a new glory page in space history!"

While he was saying that, he couldn't help thinking that there was little chance that they would all be alive in two hours.


	24. The third fall

Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

Still without a word, the two soldiers led Jay to a group of bungalows a little apart. They stopped in front of one of them and opened the front door which led to a small desk with two chairs. The room was deserted.

"Wait here" said the soldier, putting it abruptly on the chair in front of the desk.

They went out by closing the door. She heard the sound of the key in the lock.

Jay found himself alone in the silence. She glanced around in a circle at what had become her cell and did not see any bars, which seemed to indicate that this building was not intended for this function. She got up and approached one of the windows to realize that her two jailers were standing guard. No chance on that side.

She then noticed a door on the right, behind the desk. She approached it, turned around and pressed the latch with her hands tied. That's closed.

She turned her attention to the desk. There was a drawer on either side. She repeated the same operation than the door. They were both empty. That made her tick. She looked down and doesn't see dust around the legs of the furniture.

"It's just been brought in" she thought.

She looked at the chairs and the desk looking for a sharp edge to wear out her ties. No hope not on this side either. There was nothing to do for now but wait. She sat down, and began to drowse, her senses on the alert.

A long time passed. Night had completely fallen when she started. Noises came from the partition behind the desk. Someone must have come in through the back of the bungalow.

She got up. A key had just turned in the lock. The door behind the desk opened, and a man entered.

It was Spade.

* * *

Jay responds immediately. She ran at the sergeant, gave him a headbutt that surprised him, shoved him and finally passed the doorframe to enter the room where he had come from. She glanced so quickly that she could see more than she could see the objects in the room. room, really more like a blind storage room. There was only a bed and a bedside table.

She grabbed the latch and tried to close the door behind her, but Spade, recovered from his surprise, had already placed the end of his shoe in the meantime. She did try to push it, only his anchoring was not as good as his opponent's and inexorably the panel opened.

She then heard the sergeant's voice from the other side of the door:

"Excellent... tire yourself out especially..."

It increased his rage tenfold. She just turned around when he entered the room and kicked him just below his knee with all her energy. His attacker groaned in pain and threw a left hook immediately followed by a second from right in the middle of his liver.

Jay partially dodged the first shot by turning his head but could not avoid the second. The pain was so intense that it remained frozen in place, and then collapsed in a state of semi-consciousness.

Spade caught his breath. The burning sensation below his right knee began to diminish. He lowered eyes and saw Jay, motionless, face down on the ground. This worried him. What if...

He bent down and put his hand on the prisoner's shoulder to turn her over. This simple touch felt like a branding iron. Jay was startled, and rolled over, taking refuge under the bed. Spade tried to grab her by the leg, but it was a wasted effort.

Jay found himself face down under the bed, his two hands grabbing one of the slats to avoid being pulled or lifted. Spade first tried to grab her by reaching under the bed, but she had pressed herself against the wall and resisted with all her might.

So he decided to use another way, straightened up and removed the mattress and threw it behind him against the wall. From where he was, he could contemplate his prey under the slats, as if it had been in a cage.

"Small bird, you're caught now!"

His voice was still as calm, but more out of breath than at the beginning of the meeting. He then tried to get Jay to let go, but he felt as if his fingers had fused together to form a compact mass. He then tried to lift the bed, but only managed to get a slat.

This fierce resistance had initially stimulated him, but he was beginning to find the time long and was in a hurry to finish.

He then grabbed the frame of the box spring, and with all his strength lifted it up as one opens the lid of a chest. Jay, still clinging to his slat, found himself facing him, and in a last effort tried to give him a headbutt. He ducked him, and punched him in the temple.

Jay bit the dust for the second time.

He caught his breath and saw the room in a big mess. The mattress, the collapsed shape, the box spring up, the slat on the floor...

He has hauled his prey in the middle of the room and was in the process of putting the slat back in its housing when he heard the floor creaking behind him. This surprised him, for he had given the instruction formalizing his two henchmen to guard the exits.

He turned around and saw Alan Kotec in the doorway frame looking out at the scene. There was a few seconds of silence and then the second lieutenant says:

"Get out"

Spade had never really been impressed with the stripes, so he replied:

"Don't get involved in this. Get out and forget it"

Kotec then pulled out his blaster. From the speed of the movement, the sergeant realized that all the the gun's safety catch had already been removed.

"You got three seconds"

"All right, all right, aye, aye..."

He walked towards the door. Kotec moved back to his left to let him pass and then moved back three metres behind him as he walked through the office and out of the bungalow. He then found his two companions, one of whom was pressing a doubtfully clean scarf over his face. Kotec ordered him:

"Go with them"

Spade advanced to the level of the two soldiers, turned around and said:

"What do we do now?"

The second lieutenant raised his gun.

"Hey Lieutenant, don't fuck around!" exclaimed one of the soldiers who, in a fit of emotion, had just given him an extra rank.

Kotec fired over the heads of the three men, the blast going to pulverize an alarm box attached to one of the camp's streetlights. All the lights at the base went on and a siren began to scream.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", fourth traffic artery port side.

Hanson and his crew had sat on the compressed air cylinders and all were dozing while waiting for new instructions. They were not the only ones to do so, and a catacomb silence reigned in the crowded hallway. He thought:

"We should have taken some rations. It would have passed the time"

All of a sudden, a noise came from the end of the corridor. He raised his head and saw three death troopers that had just appeared at the end of the hall. The first one stopped right away, the second one in the middle, close to them, and the third at the other end.

Whoever was close to them then spoke. The other two probably had to do the same, but they were too far away for Hanson to hear them.

"At the first blast of the horn, you'll need to put on your helmets and check your oxygen supply. You'll have one minute to do so before the corridor depressurizes"

Then a break. He resumed, pointing to the red-striped plates above their heads:

"You will then wait for the emergency escape hatches to unlock. When the horn sounds for the second time you will cross them!"

Hanson looked up and saw that they were almost halfway between openings. As if he had reading his thoughts, the death trooper added:

"Agregate among yourselves for the order of passage. There mustn't be any jostling!"

He continued: "Once you are out, you will obey the commands of the scouts who came before you. Any questions?"

Hanson raised his hand.

"How about the guns?"  
"A rifle for two. You'll have to pick the best shooters. The other two carry the grenades. Is that clear?"

Hanson nodded.

"Good. Get some rest. It won't be long now"

The first elite soldier had finished and had just joined him. They then continued on to the third and out of the hallway. Silence fell again. No one wanted to talk.

* * *

Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.

Spade was sitting in a chair in one of the command post offices. Facing him, behind a at the table were the intelligence officer, the base commander and Alan Kotec. The Base Commander sat between the two men and watched him without showing the slightest expression.

It was the intelligence officer who spoke first:

"Sergeant, we'd like to hear your explanation of the events of that night in which you were involved and which resulted in a general alert and a prisoner in the hospital"

Spade boasted that he despised the senior officers whom he held in contempt as a herd of badgers and shirkers. Nevertheless, he realized that this time he had to keep a low profile.

"Well, you know, Officer, I had brought this prisoner into my office for questioning"  
"On what grounds? Interrogation is the domain of the intelligence service"  
"Well, I thought I'd get some information faster..."  
"By beating and then raping her?"  
"It went wrong..."

The intelligence officer then turned to Alan Kotec.

"Sub-Lieutenant, you're the one who tripped the alarm. What did you see?"

Alan described to them the sequence of events. His insomnia, the sounds of a struggle in the bungalow, the soldier who had tried to keep him out and finally the description of the blind room behind the desk.

Spade realized then that he had made a huge mistake. As long as he was on the front lines, he could do all he wanted, but improvising in the heart of the base had been insane. He couldn't not to curse the officer who kept him away from Jay after he was captured. This whole mess was his fault.

Now we had to save his ass, and in view of the commander who hadn't opened his mouth yet, it wasn't a sure thing. So he tried to plead his case:

"Officer, when you're always on the front lines, you have to make quick decisions..."  
"That's odd; it seems rather premeditated your business" replied the intelligence officer in a frosty voice.

He didn't know what to say, so he thought it best to add:

"That's kind of the way it is on Dvar..."

The commander then spoke:

"Well, we've wasted enough time with you. So here's what's going to happen: you're going to leave immediately for the eastern front or you'll be assigned as a corporal to the de-mining of the axes of attack"

Mine clearance! And on the eastern front as well! In this sector the average life expectancy of a pioneer did not exceed fifteen days!

"You have no right to degrade me! This must be pronounced by a court-martial!"  
"Shut up! You'll appeal when you get back! In the meantime, you scratch your balls without an order and it's the execution stake in front of the lines! Is that clear?"

Spade couldn't help swallowing his spit. This was the punishment for traitors and cowards. Exposed attached to a stake under enemy fire. The guys on the other side knew it and made the fun last.

The commander turned to the intelligence officer:

"Go get the provost marshals"

The officer walked out of the room. A brief moment passed, and he returned with two military policemen, true giants with a mineral face. They each positioned themselves on one side of the sergeant. The commander took the floor again and addressed Spade, still seated.

"Stand up"

Spade obeyed. The Major then addressed the two provost marshals who were standing by:

"Get that man's stripes off"

With a few quick gestures, the rank marks were thrown to the ground. It was then the intelligence officer who spoke:

"Entrap him and take him to location E4. A liaison shuttle is waiting to pick him up"

One of the two MPs then took out a pair of handcuffs and bound Spade's wrists behind his back. The ex-sergeant and his two cerberians then went out and the door was closed without a sound.

The two officers and Kotec were left alone in the room. The commander finally broke the silence:

"Too bad, he's a good scout. But then he crossed the line"  
"We've already let him do a lot of things," replied the intelligence officer.  
"How is the prisoner? Is there any news from the hospital?"  
"She's been sedated, she has three broken ribs, internal haematomas but no bleeding"  
"Sacred good woman anyway" Kotec relieved. "To stand up to that scoundrel with her hands tied behind her back..."  
"Yes, fortunately they are not all like that" replied the commander.


	25. In limbo

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", command bridge.

A console announced:

"Jamming activated on all frequencies!"

Then the post was pierced here and there by short sentences:

"Thermal tracks all the way across!"

"Radar echoes at three o'clock! In rapid precession!"

Crebs, still mute on the bridge, frowned. Thermal tracks were signalling the gases to eject a heavy ship. Radar detection was pointing in the same direction. We were approaching at high speed one or more enemy buildings.

The admiral then ordered:

"Bar 25 starboard! Pitch 15! Full forward thrust!"

The ship accelerated. Crebs felt the centrifugal force and his hands tightened on the bridge railing. The deep space, barred from the glistening trails of the ejection gases, flashed across the main bay.

Suddenly he saw and understood.

The stern of a destroyer had just appeared in the upper right-hand corner of the window. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but address the admiral:

"The Emancipator?"

"Yes" replied Louchké, smiling. "Served on a platter"

* * *

Biem Hoa Republican base, central hospital.

Jay was floating.

She didn't know where she was, if she was dead or alive, just this feeling of floating in limbo, not unpleasant by the way. She was expecting to hear the voice, so even though she was not surprised.

"Jay, good to have you back! We were disturbed last time..."  
"What do you want from me?"  
"Just to help you, Jay. Men are bad, they hurt you. But I'm not like them"  
"Yes, you're right, men are beasts..."  
"I know the strength and the means to use it. No one will be able to harm you again. You will be above of them, and you will swing the sword of righteousness..."  
"What's the price of your help?"  
"But there isn't any, Jay! You will become my student!"  
"Um..."  
"You're hesitating".

Jay suddenly felt another presence. His voice changed. It said:

"What are you doing here?"  
"Listening to you talk and wasting your time. When are you bringing her back?"  
"Soon, soon. Don't be in such a hurry..."  
"I've had enough! It's taking too long!"  
"That's enough! Get out of here! You don't belong here!"  
"Ergon..."  
"Don't ever say my name!" shouted the voice.

She woke up with a start, like the end of a fall.

She began to perceive a pale pink ceiling, and heard the electronic chirping of the monitors and medical droids. She thought: "It's like being in the underbrush". Consciousness was returning to her and with it the pain. A droid's impersonal phrases pierced her half-sleep:

"Medical female prisoner, do not agitate. You have three broken ribs and bruising in the liver and face. Estimated healing time: 15 days for haematomas plus one week for the ribs"

She moved slightly in her bed and felt that she had not been hindered, certainly in the precipitous alert.

Despite her fractures she smiles. The range of possibilities had just opened up again.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command bridge.

Everyone was focused on the sensors. The Admiral, Judd, and the others on the The bridge scanned the command post bay, which was desperately empty. Rousseau addressed the detection gateway:

"Always nothing? Have you explored in all modes?"  
"Nothing, admiral. We're going to scan the sector again on all frequencies"  
"Hurry up"

Judd left the bridge to get refreshments and a tray of sandwiches. He had been in the command room for two hours now. He took the main elevator and went down to the main aisle to the kitchens.

He sighed. It didn't make any sense. A game that's there, that's not there anymore... he began to thinking about his return to Kuat, about the cabarets and brothels he had heard about... It made him cheered him up, and with a smile he crossed the threshold of the officers' mess.

On the bridge, Admiral Rousseau made no secret of his impatience. The atmosphere charged like a stormy sky when an intercom buzzes. It was the post of the defence centre starboard.

The operator picked up the phone and took the call. He listened, jumped up and shouted into the station without even hang up:

"Enemy ship in rapid approach rear quadrant!"

A thermobomb exploding in the middle of the bridge wouldn't have had any more effect. Admiral shouted at the detection station:

"You bunch of losers! How could you not see it?"  
"Every means of detection was deployed forward, Admiral"  
"So how was he discovered then?"  
"A turbolaser turret under repair. The pointer saw them through the scope"

The admiral shrugged his shoulders in excitement. Everything was going wrong. He raised his head to the screens whose cameras were immediately redirected to the threat. He swallowed his saliva. The enemy ship took up most of the screen. The navigational station announced:

"Collision estimated three minutes from now!"

Rousseau continued staring at the screen, fascinated. Youlia then told him:

"Admiral, what are your orders?"

No answer.

"Admiral, we have to redirect the batteries to the rear and put the ship in alarm!"

Still no response.

"Admiral, pull yourself together! You must give the orders to save the ship!"  
"Maybe... Do your best, Officer..."

She gave the order in a loud voice: "Sound the alarm! Deploy the battalion on board!"

The intercoms crackled. The detection operator again:

"Contact in one minute!"

All saw on the screen that the hostile vessel had taken on a pronounced starboard list.

"This is a collision! Hang on!"

Everyone stiffened, anticipating the shock.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

"It's still jamming, Commander!" Announced transmission console.

The entire bridge saw the radar images, projected on the main screen, confirmed by the optical sensors despite the distortions caused by the many black holes.

They had to face the facts: The destroyer they were vainly trying to hunt in a pack had completed a complete loop and became the pursuer of the flagship. They were observing the spots get closer, the distances get smaller and the simulated trajectory curves get closer.

"What's the closest frigate to us?" asked the navigation officer.  
"The "Space Queen IV". She's twenty minutes away"  
"We have to send a courier there right away! The jamming will continue!"  
"It's the only thing to do" admitted the commander.

He turned to the operations console:

"Get the pilot back!"

The station got busy. Meanwhile, the LRSS liaison officer who had overheard the conversation addressed the commander:

"There's another LRSS agent on this ship. Will you allow me to join him? The lieutenant we had scattered, but now that we know where the blow came from..."

"Yes, it's a good initiative. Although it's a little late for miracles..."

The pilot arrived in the meantime. The captain gave him his instructions, the navigation was done. trajectories, and he came out with the liaison officer.

"Full astern!" Announced the commander. "Navigation, you will validate the coordinates!"

We'll be here at least an hour, thought the navigation officer. What state will the flagship be in when we join him?

He still kept that thought to himself.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", guest quarters.

Jed was lying on his bed when the alarm went off. He leapt to his feet and looked at the screen of the the intercom.

He had a heartache when reading the messages, then went directly to the small wardrobe which contained his personal effects, opened it and grabbed the belt which carried his blaster. He hurriedly closed it and then tried to call homeland security. No one answered. He thought:

"The lines must be jammed"

He opened his cabin door, only to find that there was a lot of confusion. He stopped a squad of four soldiers from the embarked battalion who had suddenly appeared at the corner of the hallway.

"Where are you going soldiers? What are your orders?"  
"We're going to the main hangar Lieutenant!" said the master corporal leading the group.  
"Is there a contact there?"  
"We don't know anything. We received the deployment order at the start of the alarm and this is the combat post that has been assigned to us"

Jed replied: "Well, go ahead"

This brief interview left him with a strange impression. Why deploy if you don't know where you are. the enemy?

He decided to go to Homeland Security two floors up.

He couldn't help but think: "I'm going to visit my good friend Yulia"

* * *

Judd was garnishing a tray of treats in the mess hall when the siren caught him with a group of bomber crew were eating.

He thought: "So we'd have found him eventually?"

He activated the padding on the tray. He thought: "I would no longer miss the final". At that moment, one of the pilots at the table got up and approached him.

"What's going on, Lieutenant? Why are we going on alarm and not a general alert?"

Judd was about to answer that he didn't know when he felt a tingling through his soles. He fell silent, all senses alert. The vibration remained constant for about 20 seconds and then stopped.

He turned towards the pilot and saw that he had felt the same thing.

The pilot turned to the group at the table and said:

"All to the cabins! Go get your weapons!"

He saluted and left the mess after his group, leaving Judd a little confused. He made when even complete his tray and head back to the command post.


	26. The gates of hell

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", fourth traffic artery port side.

The horn sounded, startled three-quarters of those present. Put on the helmet, open the oxygen and test for leaks... The whole corridor sounded the same refrain.

Hanson looked at his team. Everything had gone off without incident. Josse raised his thumb in the air and smiled. His gaze swept from one end of the corridor to the other. Everyone was equipped, waiting for the decompression. One group had nevertheless congregated not far from them. He couldn't hear anything, the link was now by short-range radio, but even at a distance, he could feel the panic radiating from that place.

He felt by the slight inflation of his suit that the evacuation of the air had just begun.

The group huddled in front of a transverse airlock.

But what exactly are they doing? Hanson and his team wondered. Suddenly he understood. They were trying to open up access to a cross-link to a pressurized section.

He did not have time to observe the result. The second horn blast sounded and the hatches opened up. The order of passage having been defined beforehand, the four artillerymen waited their turn. The rifles had been assigned to Hanson and Virbein, the other two carrying the grenades and magazines.

Finally the way was cleared, and they were swallowed by the red-rimmed opening. The image was printed briefly in the vision of Josse closing the march.

"A true gateway to hell", he thought.

He crossed it anyway.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", command post.

Contact was made a few seconds ago. At the last moment, the Admiral had shouted out his instructions, the helmsmen and propulsion had turned words into deeds and the heavy vessel had come to rest underneath his prey, some ten meters away.

There had been a few antennae torn off, maybe a turret or two crushed, but nothing more.

The batteries of the Destiny Blade were all pointing at the Republican ship, except for the port turrets that had been abandoned because they were too close to the objective.

Formal orders had nevertheless been given to the gunners. They were to fire only in response to a enemy fire, only on the source, and were to cease firing as soon as the threat was destroyed. That had at first surprised the turret crews, but they thought the admiral probably wanted taking the Republic destroyer hostage to negotiate with the rest of the fleet.

Isse, who had joined the post to see the big picture, saw the pioneers in pairs, dragging the hoses that were normally used for the transfer of food and ammunition between ships. The hoses were laid in front of the supply doors of the Republican destroyer, a one of them remains inside in front of the closed airlock, the other ensures that the tube grips the hooks. retractable doors provided for this purpose.

Fortunately, the two ships are almost the same model, thought Isse. It makes it easier for us a lot of things. It's just a bit of a peculiar supply, after all.

The same scene was repeated along both ships, like images from a kaleidoscope.

The pipe hooking was over. The signal must have been given to the waiting troops, because the conduits began to fill with soldiers.

He watched as the pioneers outside the pipes approached the opening controls, raised the valves and lower the levers. The airlock doors began to slide on their rails. The scouts disappeared, and then the compact columns shook. He didn't see a trace of shots. The pioneers outside joined the ship to rejoin their comrades by the pipes. The first phase of the plan was complete, but it was only the easiest.

He left the station with Crebs. Now it was up to them.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Homeland Security Central Station.

Jed arrived at the station where there was feverish activity. He didn't see Youlia, so he turned to the officer of the watch. He asked after he saluted:

"Major, what's the status?"  
"We're taking stock. All we know right now is that we haven't been spurred on"  
"But they still didn't come next to us and do nothing?"  
"No, of course. I sent some scouts to the lower sections for reconnaissance"

Jed found the answer a bit administrative. He decided to cut it short:

"I'm at your disposal, Major. Do you have an assignment for me?"

The officer hesitated for a moment and then decided:

"Go to the flight deck. You'll get a full picture of the situation, and Colonel Ashrod will know what to do"

Jed waved goodbye and left the station. He headed for the main elevator to the command post.

* * *

At the same time Sven and his crews reached their quarters, located at the front of the ship, between the holds and the main hangar. They opened their lockers and equipped themselves with their individual weapons.

As they made their way down the corridor to the main alley, Esan stopped abruptly.

"What's going on? "  
"Don't you hear? There's footsteps behind the partition"

Sven and the others listened. Indeed, there were noises behind the alley wall.

"Does this aisle run well along the holds?"  
"Affirmative" answered one of the pilots.  
"Draw your weapons!"

He approached an airlock, signaling to the others to join him in silence.

"Esan and three men on the other side. Cover us"

He tackled the wall and dialed the code to open the door. The locks went up and the sliding panel.

Everything was dark and silent. Sven pointed his blaster and carefully moved his head forward to take a look inside. At first, dazzled by the contrast between the corridor and the hold, he saw nothing suspicious. Then his eyes lingered on the ground, and suddenly the tip of a boot appeared.

"Troopers!" he shouted, making fire over the boot.

A brief burst answered him. He hurriedly threw himself backwards while his companions were retorting.

Esan shouted:

"The door! Shut up, Sven!"

Sven crushed the red emergency closing button. The panel slid and locked in a dry slam. The scene lasted no more than six seconds. Only the black traces of the blaster shots on the walls testified that they hadn't dreamed. Esan asked:

"Is no one hurt?"

Sven looked around at his companions to see that one of the pilots behind him was sitting along the the wall and didn't move. He approached him and grabbed his shoulder. The man collapsed and Sven saw that half of his face had been blown off by a discharge of blaster. The remaining face was frozen in an enigmatic smile. Sven murmured:

"God..."

He shot her carotids. Nothing more.

"He died instantly"

His companions said nothing. There was really nothing to say. Esan broke the silence:

"The command post must be notified urgently. Where is there a terminal?"  
"At the junction of the main corridor. Let's go, and quickly!"  
"What about him?" asked one of the pilots.

Sven hesitated for a few seconds and said to the closest companion to the body:

"Let's leave him. We'll come back for him later. Take his gun and his belt"

They started running towards the crossroads.

* * *

Jed arrived at the command post at the same time as Judd, entangled in his trays and bottles. He let him pass and went in after him.

He instantly sensed the atmosphere, a mixture of ignorance, fear and action. The admiral was sitting on a chair that must have been brought to him by the operator of a nearby console and seemed completely prostrate.

He saw Youlia, motionless like a statue of salt, listening to a communication on the intercom without saying one word. At the end, her lips came back to life and he heard her answer:

"Stay at the crossroads and call back immediately if there's any movement. I am sending you reinforcements"

She hung up.

Jed walked over to her, stopped three yards away and bowed loosely, although perfectly stopped. He announced in a loud voice:

"Lieutenant Koïnsky at your disposal!"  
"At ease. I see that you broke your arrests on your own initiative"  
"I thought the alarm took precedence over the punishment"  
She replied with a pout that revealed a dimple on her right cheek: "We will talk about it in other circumstances"

She continued:

"In the meantime I accept your offer of service. You will go down to the security station, take a squad and go to the end of the middle alley. A group of pilots had a firefight with a group of imperial trooper"  
"What's my mission? "  
"Get in contact and fix the opposing force. Easy for a scorpion like you"

Jed didn't take over. He bowed and walked out.


	27. The lost guest

Republican base at Biem Hoa, east guard post.

The corporal on duty couldn't believe it. A silhouette was heading straight towards him, through the minefields, without rushing or hiding in any way. He approached the screen door, armed his blaster and turned on the projector.

The walker was of average height, wrapped in a dust cover that was just above him boots. He noticed they weren't military models. Free French Corps, Special Forces, Lost scout? He saw no weapons, which made him even more intrigued.

Finally, the apparition arrived in front of the fence and came to a standstill three meters from the gate. The corporal did not still couldn't make out his face, concealed in the depth of the hood. He pronounced in a loud voice:

"Stop there! Who lives? Show your face and give the password!"  
"You moron" replied the hood without bending down, "Do you think I could have crossed the fields of mines and surveillance robots if I wasn't one of yours?"

This reply pissed the soldier off tremendously. He had more than enough with members of the forces who spent their time treating regulars like servants. And after all an instruction is an instruction. He replied, bringing his hand to the door's alert button:

"No password, no passage!"

The dust cover shrugged. It was the last thing the corporal saw before he died.

"Why does we always have to waste our time with livestock? " Grumbled the hood for himself.

He opened the gate, then turned around in the frame and stood still for a few seconds.

In the minefield where he came from, a form emerged from the mud. She was also covered in a dust cover, but it had to consume three times more fabrics. The shape that had just unfolded was really giant, and had to contort itself to pass framing.

"You will act only on my orders" reminded the first appearance.

A vague grunt answered him. The one who spoke resumed:

"I don't feel it. I feel a force, but it is not her. They are trying to hide things from me"

Another growl.

"The prisoner's enclosure is in the middle of the base. But first the generators. We go in, but discreetly"

He didn't wait for the third growl, and sank among the bungalows, followed like his shadow by the giant.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Main Lift.

Isse, Crebs and a motley platoon of Death Trooper and regular soldiers of the Internal Security Regiment stood in the engine room at the top of the chimney of the ship's main elevator. They were in a light spacewalk suit except the Death Troopers, whose the advanced armour could be used as a self-contained suit. They just put on a white suit of camouflage, covering them like a shroud.

One "black" broke the silence by addressing the other soldiers:

"Don't leave us in a second. If we're detected, it's gone"  
"If we lose you, we're dead. Don't worry about it" replied one sergeant.

Isse took the stand-alone terminal given to her by the communications station and connected:

"This is Isse. We are ready"  
"Wait again" replied a metallic voice. "Contact has not yet been made"  
He put the terminal down and muttered:

"What the hell are the Reps doing? They're will get caught without reacting?"

Crebs replied: "It's never easy to go from hunter to hunted game"

"They looked for it!"

Everyone was equipped. The soldiers sat down and dozed off waiting for the signal. Crebs did the same.

"Loosen up" he said to Isse. "They might surrender before we have had to intervene"

The commander burst out laughing with a shrug.

* * *

Biem Hoa Republican base, central hospital.

Dull Dvar's dull suns lit up his room. An hour after he woke up, two soldiers were and tied him to the bed, and then one sat down beside her while the other remained in the room. faction in front of the open door.

Jay thought to herself: "They must be feeling remorse for leaving me alone"

Time passed. The soldier next to her looked bored to death. She ended up trying to break the ice:

"Is it common to put two soldiers on guard for a wounded prisoner?"  
"No"  
"Then why are you here?"  
"Those are the orders"

Time passed, and to his astonishment the soldier resumed:

"You're going to be transferred to the frigate"  
"Why?"  
"Seeing the mess you've made, they must be in a hurry to send you back to the stars"  
"That's right! I should have been raped in silence and said thank you!"

The soldier couldn't help smiling.

"Bloodhound screwed up, that's for sure. But he was degraded and sent to the bomb squad for it. It's a big price to pay!"

Jay replied: "If your commander lets these things pass, he will no longer be credible or obeyed"

A break and then Jay resumed:

"How long has it been since you arrived?"  
"About three months..."

At that moment an officer appeared in the doorway. The soldier got up quickly and saluted.

"At ease, soldier. You may go out"

After he left, the newcomer turned to Jay and stood beside his bed.

"I'm the intelligence officer of the "Biem Hoa" base. I'd like to ask you a few questions before your transfer to the Angel of Mercy"  
"I'm not supposed to tell you"  
"Did you use hypervelocity boosters to reach us? "  
"You know I did, or you wouldn't be here"

The officer didn't take off the insolence.

"What regiments were dropped off by your transporters? "  
"I belong to the hunt, not the transport"  
"Were Black Guard troops taken aboard your mothership?"  
"Same answer, Officer. I don't frequent the Skitters"  
"Did you have access to the records of Kuat's harbourmaster? "

She repressed her astonishment. What did that have to do with the conversation?

"I don't know what you're talking about"  
"You didn't get any information about your navigation?"  
"Dvar is perfectly located in relation to Kuat. There's no difficulty in reaching you"  
"Do you know about the Mercy Nebula?"  
"No. No one goes there, it's too dangerous"  
"When did you leave your mothership?"

Jay exclaimed: "You know that, damn it! "

This answer gave her a grimace of pain as his broken ribs remembered.

The officer fell silent, letting Jay catch his breath. He finally said:

"We've had your central thruster sabotaged. Your destroyer had no chance of reaching Dvar, or any planet for that matter..."  
"Seeing your questions, it might have been better for you"  
"Maybe" nodded the officer, finally acknowledging the officer. He continued:

"You'll spend the day under observation, then be transported to the frigate tonight"

He was about to leave the room when he turned and said:

"We've lost all contact with the fleet. We're not worried, just a little intrigued"

He disappeared in the corridor and Jay found her Cerberus again.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", terminal branch.

Jed had returned to the central post where four soldiers had been placed under his command. They immediately set off for their assigned post. Two soldiers carried a heavy blaster on a tripod, the third carried batteries and the fourth closed the march with a bag of offensive grenades. They had been reminded to use them only at the last extremity, as these weapons could damage the ship.

They passed the last intersection and Jed saw the pilots crouching down on either side of the corridor in the distance.

"Not a good location", he thought. He turned around and addressed the soldier carrying the magazines:

"What's in the rooms along that corridor? "  
"Spare parts. The hangar is right under our feet and it's shorter for the mechanics"  
"When we're in place, you'll get crates to form a barricade"  
"Yes sir" answered the soldier.

They had arrived. Sven turned his head and recognized Jed.

"Lieutenant, did they lift your confinement?"  
"Not really, but the "sister of the machine" told me we'll talk about it again"  
"She's quite capable of doing that!" replied the pilot laughing.

He became serious again:

"They were in the bow holds. We took a look, there was an exchange of fire and one of my guys died"  
"Did you get a chance to see how many of them there were?"  
"No, it was too brief, but it certainly wasn't a lone trooper"  
"Nothing to report since?"  
"There's still a lot of noise, but we haven't seen anyone"

The lieutenant advanced to the end of the alley, which formed a T with the two auxiliary lanes. He glanced to both sides and saw no one except the body of the killed pilot who had been lying against the bulkhead. He then looked at the floor, and then his eyes looked up at the ceiling.

He was worried. Sven saw him and asked him:

"What are you looking for, Lieutenant?"  
"If the imperials avoid contact, it is certainly to put them in a position of strength"  
He turned around and addressed the soldiers:

"What's above us?"  
"The artillery service platform. It's almost deserted and it's used to feed the turrets"  
"So we can get to it?"  
"Not from this level. It's isolated from the rest of the ship. Too much risk of explosion"

That answer pisses him off. He approached the terminal and dialled his access codes.

"If there's a risk of explosion, there's a thermal sensor, are not?"

Sven smiled.

"Well seen, lieutenant"

Jed was navigating the pages and menus. Finally he got to what he was looking for. The sign "Thermal sensors" appeared on the touch screen and the lieutenant put his index finger on it, Sven looking over his shoulder. The pilot exclaimed:

"What the hell...!"

Jed blamed the blow. The image of the entire floor was speckled with bright dots, some moving, some fixed. He saw with horror that the fixed dots were concentrated around the elevators.

He wasted no time counting them, but there must have been over a hundred.

He says a little to himself: "They were detected, but the alarm didn't go off"  
"Not hot enough" replied one pilot.  
"That's why they didn't insist with us", Sven added. "The radiation from their weapons could have betrayed them"

He regretted having closed the door. Maybe, if the engagement had been longer...

Jed strummed on the intercom. The lines were busy, so he decided to take a code blue. It worked, because

he heard Youlia's voice right away.

"What's going on, Lieutenant? Did you make contact?"  
"No, sir. But I wish I had"

He explained the situation to her.

"They're concentrating around the elevators now. That's where they need to be countered"  
"I'm sending men. Go to the bottom of the Capricorn Elevator. That's the closest you'll get to your position"  
"Can't we cut the power to block them?"  
"It will be useless, they will descend by the cages in abseiling"

Jed hung up and turned to the men around him:

"What's the fastest way to the Capricorn Elevator?"  
"It leads to the workshops above the hangar. It's in the middle of our hallway"  
"Let's go, and at a run!"

The two soldiers folded the blaster's feet back and loaded it onto their shoulders. The improvised troopers shook off without a word.


	28. The swell

Republican base at Biem Hoa, prisoner's compound.

Night was falling and Bujac was beginning to find the time long. Jay had left last night and then this alert in the middle of the night which had been stopped after just one shot, then nothing...

Julius must have sensed it because he said to him:

"You look uncomfortable, Wolfgang…"  
"It's about the major. I'm pretty sure she had something to do with the alert last night"  
"You're wrong to be biting your own head off. Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do about it"

Bujac fell silent and his interlocutor took it as an acquiescence. But the renegade Jedi thought the opposite was true. He thought:

"Damn it, of course I could do something about it! If I screwed up, I'll have to wear it in front of the others, but even worse, in front of myself"

A contraction slowly began to form a knot in the top of his stomach.

He was there when another sensation appeared. It was much more dangerous, but paradoxically it relaxed him, because he knew it perfectly well: the backwash of the dark side of the force.

"He's coming", he thought to himself. "And not alone..."

It wasn't time to use trickery. He was on his way to unmask himself when suddenly the whole base was shut down.

"Classic" he thought. "They always prefer darkness"

His eyesight had not yet adjusted, so he could not see anyone in the enclosure. There was a great confusion, however, and everyone was in a complete cacophony. He resigned himself to making his contribution:

"Yil, where are you? Yil, answer!"

Finally, he heard the voice of the convict:

"I'm here, representative! Right behind you!"

He motioned for him to come closer, and when they were within normal voice range, the ex-Jedi said to him:

"It's time to use your explosive dumpling! Blow me up this portal while it's not powered up!"  
"Are you sure?"  
"What's the point of hiding this stuff then?"  
"I mean..."

Bujac took a deep breath and called upon the meditation sessions he had endured as a Padawan. He said:

"Give me that. And pass me one of the nails you sharpened too"

The convict handed him the requested items, and the defrocked Jedi ran to the gate, jostling a few prisoners here and there. There were a few protests, but Bujac was already on to his next victim when they were issued.

He finally arrived at the screened gate and crushed the explosive he had mixed up during his run over the lock box. He concentrated it tightly around the bolt and stuck the detonator in it.

"Twist the end well" he remembered. Just what is necessary, and especially not to bend the body. As long as they don't turn on now!

He moved away from the gate quickly, for he did not know the value of the delay, and indeed this precaution was not useless, for the dry detonation was emitted while he was still only ten yards away.

He rushed out into the pungent smoke to find with relief that the lock had disappeared. He pulled the casement and opened it wide, then addressed the prisoners in a loud voice:

"Soldiers! You may rejoin your comrades! Enjoy it!"

And he went out first.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", elevator "Capricorn".

Jed and his companions had arrived a little out of breath in front of the elevator shaft. Like the soldier said, there was no access from that level.

"You have to go through the workshops" he said. "There's a freight elevator for every three rooms to bring in large rooms"

Jed replied: "Just a moment"

He looked at the walls of the cage. They were smooth, but he noticed two inspection hatches.

"Can we find tools to open these accesses?"  
"Yes, sir" answered one of the soldiers.  
He went to a workshop door and opened it.

Meanwhile, the lieutenant was listening, trying to detect the slightest noise. But there were too many sources, so he didn't hear anything significant.

The soldier returned with the tools, and began to dismantle the panel. Jed helped him by supporting the piece, while the fasteners were removed.

"Careful" he said, "You mustn't take it off right away"

He arranged his troop in two groups on either side of the hatch. The heavy blaster was put in battery just in front of one of the openings, and when this was done he turned off the corridor lights and took two grenades from the bag.

"This is what we are going to do. We're going to remove the panel. If there are any enemies, open fire immediately and I'll throw the grenades. If there's no one around, I'll head for inspection. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir" answered the improvised infantrymen in their hearts.

The last bindings were removed, and the lieutenant and the soldier put the sign down as quietly as possible.

The mouth was dark and silent. It was up to him.

He slowly stuck his head through the opening, looking upwards. He only saw the floor of the elevator cage.

"The lift cage is above us" he said in a whisper to his comrades. "They must have called him"

He added: "Remove the second panel quickly!"

The pilots and soldiers got busy. When this was done, Jed divided them into two groups in front of each opening, with their weapons facing upwards.

"As soon as the cage started moving, open fire through the floor. If the cage reaches our level, keep firing through the walls, and end up through the ceiling if it keeps going down. Is that clear?"

"Copy that" answered the troop.

He pushed his head back through the opening.

It was the lighting in the cabin that saved his life. He saw the halo of light on the wall in front of the frame, which made him stop his gesture. The flash passed less than ten centimetres from his head.

He hurriedly moved back.

"They opened the floor hatches! Fire at will!"

The soldiers opened fire. There was some return fire, but not very accurate. Jed shouted:

"Hold your fire!

He added: "As long as we don't get past their heads, they'll have a hard time hitting us"

"For now we're blocking them" Sven replied. To try to go down in these conditions would be a real carnage.

No sooner had he said that than the elevator shaft started up. Jed shouted again:

"Fire at will!"

Again, the blaster were unleashed

The cage was right above them when Jed understood and shouted:

"Hold your fire! Everybody back!"

The troop retreated. The cage came up to them, and they were all blown away.

The lieutenant got up, buzzing and ringing in his ears. Sven next to him did the same. He heard his distant voice:

"How did you guess? "  
"There was no return fire"

The two men watched the rest of the group get up except one. Sven said as he approached him:

"It's one of my pilots!"

He turned him over. The man was dead.

"Another one" he thought as he grabbed his forehead. "Is this the squadron's last mission or what?"  
"Go back to your posts!" Jed said. "This isn't over!"

The walls of the cage had flown in all directions. There was now a big one, and you could see ropes swinging in the air.

"Watch out! They're abseiling down! Fire at will!"

Once again the blasters emitted their deadly darts, but this time the response was abundant, and no one could get within two meters of the pit to adjust their fire.

All we have to do now is shoot them down at close range when they're at our level," said the lieutenant.

"Back off! He shouted. Everybody down!"

The silhouettes appeared suddenly, black and white.

"Death troopers!" Jed thought. Invulnerable to the individual blaster! He turned to the two soldiers serving the weapon on a tripod.

"Fire on the "blacks"!"

A white figure was hit, dropped the rope and disappeared. But already two Death trooper had set foot in the corridor. A discharge laid down the first, but the second retaliated instantly and killed the shooter and his servant.

Jed threw a grenade at the shooter, and the explosion sent him back to the elevator pit.

Everything stopped.

The lieutenant made the call again. He, Sven and Esan were the only ones left, plus two pilots and the soldier who had carried the grenades.

Jed asked, or rather shouted Jed to the soldier, because they were all half deaf.

"Where are the freight elevators?"

The soldier made a vague gesture towards one of the doors.

"Good" replied the lieutenant. "We'll open the door and put the heavy blaster in front of it. When the batteries are exhausted, we'll go to ours by the lift"

He approached the dead death trooper and took his weapon from him.

"If they're sending us "blacks", don't waste your ammunition. Only heavy weapons to shoot them down and grenades to shake them up a little"

The five men quickly got into position. In front of them, the ropes started moving again.

They were ready to open fire, but no one appeared. Suddenly, a volley of grenades was scattered. They went down headlong, and now they're overwhelming us at will!" thought Jed resignedly.

"Go back! Take the blaster!"

They all went to bed, and the workshop door was ripped off. The lieutenant got up at once, took the gun from the tripod and went through the frame to come face to face with a trooper.

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The weapon must have been damaged. He wanted to use it as a mace, but his opponent had already reacted and fired. He felt the burn spread to his right side. He thought to himself before losing consciousness:

"No armor left..."


	29. The blast of thunder

Biem Hoa Republican base, central hospital.

Jay had been released from her restraints and was given a shower, which she had to take with a nurse, both to watch her and to help her with her broken ribs. It had been a very pleasant moment, a little spoiled by the reflection she had seen in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm already quite ugly"she thought to herself, "but then, with the haematomas, that's the last straw!""

A huge purple bump was just beginning to deflate on her left temple, and her lower lip still bore the trace of the hook she had partially dodged.

"If I'm not left alone now, it's to despair" she concluded, putting her facial mask back on.

His clothes had been washed, which cheered him up. A Republican jacket had also been added, a delicacy she appreciated. When she had finished getting dressed, one of the two soldiers that watching her said to him:

"It's time to head for the space trip. The carrier will be leaving soon"

They set off on foot towards the space zone of the base, Jay flanked on each side by a soldier. They had walked about a hundred yards when it all went down. A little surprised, the two soldiers stopped. Jay asked them:

"What's going on? Is this an alert?"  
"No. If it was an alert we'd hear the siren, it's not on the main grid"  
"It's pretty damn quiet, don't you think? "

There was a shot from somewhere. The soldiers listened, but the noise remained isolated.

"We're going on" one of the soldiers finally said as he took his blaster out of the holster. "An order is an order"

His comrade took off without a word and they started off again in the darkness. Jay thought to himself:

"Strange though, this lasting blackout, this silence..."

Suddenly she froze up. The voice had just spoken to her, but it was neither soft nor pleasant. It was orders shouted by thunder.

The two soldiers noticed her halt and believed that he was rebelling or attempting to flee. The taciturn grabbed his wrist while his companion said, a little irritated:

"Don't be silly and follow us! "

She was about to leave again when a shadow stood in front of her. The two guards turned around and pointed their guns at each other.

"Don't moving! "

No answer. The thing that dominated them a good half meter did not move.

The hood was then folded down in one fell swoop and Jay and his two guards were stunned by what they saw. The gesture had revealed the figure of a man who was watching them from afar. Only this figure was not unique, it was repeated on each side. It looked like the reflections of a flesh-made kaleidoscope.

The face was motionless and silent but they saw the lips of the two lateral mouths moving in silence, as if the heads were talking to each other.

The apparition made a slight rotation, and they were observed by other eyes, different but similar.

The two guards opened fire together.

The form dodged.

Jay then realized that three complete men had been assembled by the back. The most chilling thing was that this assembly was not lacking in elegance, its flexible and perfectly synchronized movements reminiscent of those of an octopus or a jellyfish.

Two arms sprang from the dust cover and the first soldier's neck broke.

Jay shook off the paralyzing fear, turned his heels, and started running down the alley. Behind her she heard a blaster shot followed by a crackling sound. The second soldier had just been killed.

"He's gonna catch me, he's gonna catch me, he's gonna catch me..."

She saw a narrow path on her right. She skidded down on the dirt floor.

"To get out of his sight, to become invisible..."

A silhouette appears before her. She almost swept it away with all her momentum, but the shape dodged and grabbed her in his arms. It was Bujac.

"Follow us, Major"

She saw Blom and a few others in the shadow of the alley. Blaster shots were heard. Bujac listened:

"They're being hung up by the garrison. That's Good for us"

They left in the shadows. Jay was so shaken that she followed them without a word.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", elevator "Capricorn".

It was a bunker rat that woke up Jed. These parasites were brought into the vessels during stopovers and their tracking was one of the basic occupations of the crews. He felt a patient biting at his right middle finger, which brought him back to the surface of consciousness.

At first, he saw nothing, which made him believe that he had been blinded by his opponent's shot.

Then his retinas opened, and he made out the ceiling in the hallway. The power had been cut off because everything was in the dark. Only the emergency lights spread a greenish glow from far to far.

He turned heavily to his left side and began to get up. His breathing was bad. He nevertheless managed to stand up and wobbled. He felt his right side, where his wound was, and felt a huge bump above the wound.

No choice. He bent down to look for his dagger in his boot, found it and stuck the tip right in the haematoma. The right leg of his pants stuck to his skin and he felt his boot fill in.

Everything began to get confused and he leaned against the wall of the corridor. But he was breathing better.

The dizziness passed, and he looked around in a circle at what was around him. The trooper who had him shot was lying at his feet. The workshop that had been their last position was totally obscure.

"And I didn't even take a torch!" He thought to himself, cursing his unpreparedness.

His gaze fell on the dead trooper. "What if..."

He stooped and turned the body over. Like the lieutenant, he had been disarmed and the magazine pockets were empty. But the rest of the equipment remained in place and miracle! Jed saw a torch hanging from the belt.

He took it quickly and lit it. Now he was no longer blind.

He passed the workshop frame and walked to the freight elevator to see that it had been destroyed. By his group or by the enemy, he knew nothing about it, but nothing to hope for on this side.

He sat down on a crate to take stock of the situation.

Obviously the front line had moved and he was now in enemy territory. Abseiling down the stairwell was impossible in his condition and it would be like jumping into the wolf's mouth anyway.

Returning to the ship's castle via the corridor from which he had come posed the same problems. There was no place to hide and he would inevitably be spotted and taken prisoner when he reaches the combat zone.

There was one last solution: follow exactly the same path as the attackers, return to the service platform by the holds. From there he could either go back down to the friendly zone if the imperials had been blocked before, or else look for a service suit and reach the castle from the outside.

It was only to be hoped that the imperials had not left any sentries.

That was all that remained to be done, so he set off immediately after having put on a rough bandage.

* * *

Republican base at "Biem Hoa", headquarters.

The commander was standing in the middle of the room listening to the report given to him by the lieutenant in charge of the garrison. To his left, a little to the rear, the intelligence officer was not missing a tiniest part of the conversation.

At the end of the report, the commander spoke:

"How could there have been infiltration without the alarm being raised?"  
"Due to losses, we had to lighten the service. The sentries have not been doubled for two days"  
"You say that the main generators have been sabotaged. How? "  
"A conductive organic material has been sprayed on the cables. It put everything in short circuit"

The intelligence officer ticked, but stood his ground. The lieutenant continued:

"Technicians are working on it now, but this material is extremely toxic. The first electrician who intervened without protection died in less than ten minutes"  
"How long before we at least get the lights back on?"  
"In one hour"

The commander looked up at the ceiling.

"In one hour! And we are unprotected apart by the droids and the minefields! Let us pray that the imperials know nothing about it!"  
"Rightly commander. The prisoners managed to blow up the enclosure gate and spread throughout the base. They're unarmed apart from a few clubs and knives, but they have already attacked a few isolated soldiers to take their weapons..."  
"And what did you do? "  
"I entrenched my platoon around the central core of the base. As soon as the lighting comes back, we will rake the peripheral districts sector by sector"

The commander turned to the signal station.

"Have you still some electric supply left? "  
"Yes, sir, we're on back-up batteries"  
"Contact the Angel of Mercy immediately. Tell him not to send the shuttle"  
"It's too late, Commander. It's already gone and the descent has begun. The radio waves are only passing more"

The commander clenched his jaws. Everything was going to rack and ruins.

"Is at least the space zone secure? "  
"Yes for the hangars, no for the runways"  
"It's going from bad to worse. Can we send a squad down there to pick it up?"  
"That would be dangerous, commander. I barely have enough men to hold the central core. But as soon as it is in atmospheric flight we can contact them by radio to tell her to come back up"  
"How soon does it get here?"  
"Half an hour" replied the radio station. "Given the low power of the emergency transmitter, it will have to be called just before landing"

The commander thinks briefly. He didn't like this solution, but there weren't any yet.

"Good" he concluded, addressing the head of the garrison. "We can consider that the situation has stabilized. The top priority is restarting the generators. Do you have full powers, understood?"  
"Yes sir!" replied the lieutenant, bowing and turning on his heel.

A moment passed and then the intelligence officer spoke:

"Commander, this story is not at all clear…"  
"That is the least one can say!"  
"I'm not kidding, Commander. This doesn't look like an attack by imperial commandos"  
"If it's not them, who can it be?"  
"I don't know. But I'm going to go see the generators and take a sample of this material. That may give us an indication"

"Watch out anyway!"  
"Don't worry about that, I'll take my precautions. I will also have to question all the soldiers who were on guard. They may have seen something"  
"Do it. But for now the priority is to take back the base"


	30. By the holds

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", artillery service platform.

Jed had already passed "Capricorn" and arrived at the next elevator shaft named "Betelgeuse".

According to his plan he had passed through the holds and then climbed the metal ladders to access the upper level of the lifts. This floor was deserted and as for the corridor, the lights were off. He thought a bit eased:

"They must not have enough people to cover the conquered terrain"

"Betelgeuse" appeared before him in the middle of the aisle. He took a transverse corridor in order to be sure not to be surprised, but soon realized that there was no soul alive.

"It's strange", he said to himself. "It must be slamming down hard, but here everything is only calm". He dared not add "and sweetness" at the end of his thought.

He approached the cage and saw that the control panel had been dismantled.

"They've done a hell of a job" he thought. "They may even have opened airlocks remotely without us even noticing it".

The doors had been left open, so he looked down after he had switched off his lamp. Everything was dark and silent.

"Well, that means they're already past that point. Not good news for us"

All that remained was to move on to the last elevator, the one closest to the castle, called "Atlantis".

He was getting tired. He hadn't eaten or drunk in about ten hours, and the loss of blood from his wound was weakening him. He walked more and more slowly and had to sit down several times before finally reaching the last shaft which was in an area that was still lit.

Attracted by the light, he really wanted to end it and go straight to it, but he still found the will to force himself to redo his observation approach.

Like the two previous ones, everything was calm, but he saw that the control panel was still in place, which against all logic gave him hope.

He was going to approach the cage doors as he had done previously when the control panel lights came on. The numbers began to scroll and Jed realized that the elevator was going up. He hurriedly backed away and took refuge in a corner between two electrical cabinets with his dagger in his fist.

The engines stopped and he heard the doors opening. There were footsteps, strangely slow and dragging, then the door closed and the drive started again.

"They've sent the lift back" thought Jed. But why did they do that? They might as well have left it upstairs.

He heard a conversation, followed by the fluttering of the soles on the metal floor.

Jed thought: "They're deploying. I'm too late"

He concentrated as he leaned against the wall. The troopers were closing in on his lair.

The sound came closer and then a shadow passed in front of him. He was about to pounce to punch his enemy in the kidneys when he saw at the last moment that his supposed opponent was a woman in Republican uniform.

The stupor paralyzed him for a fraction of a second and then he banged the handle of his dagger against the wall and cried out:

"What are you doing here? "

The woman was startled and suddenly turned around. He saw that his left arm was immobilized by a splint.

"Sergeant Diane Rajai, bombardier in the No. 52 Squadron"  
"You didn't answer!"  
"I was in the hospital when the Imperials invaded and took us prisoner"  
"You escaped?"  
"They formed us into small groups to isolate us at the back of the hangar. We managed to neutralise our guards and figured the best way to get back to our lines was to get up to artillery level"  
"How did you do for the guards?"

He couldn't imagine a bunch of cripples attacking stormtroopers.

Diane smiled and slowly opened her right hand. Jed saw a small syringe.

"There's enough in there to knock out a Wampa or two," she said. I think they must still be dreaming by now..."

Jed's smiling back. This sergeant was starting to please him. Diane asked him:

"And who are you?"  
"Lieutenant Jed Koïnsky, LRSS. I tried to stop them at "Capricorn", but I was wounded, left for dead and had the same idea as you"

Diane nodded. Jed continued:

"Why did you send the lift back?"  
"I don't know. We haven't thought about it. Maybe so they wouldn't make the link with the level..."

Knowing that there were only two floors in the hangar, Jed told himself that the imperials would not take long to understand.

"They won't be long in coming back. How many of you are there?"  
"Twelve, me include. Some can barely move"  
"We'll have to go to the turrets and to recover the combinations"  
"That's what I was going to do when you surprised me"

She looked at the dagger.

"Would you have killed me?"  
"Yes" replied the lieutenant after a few seconds of reflection.

* * *

They were in a hurry. It wasn't as simple as it looked.

They had to get into the technical sections of the firing pits, open the airlocks when they were unlocked, reach the suit locker, check that the suits were intact and that the air supply was full... Jed found several suits that were running out of air or battery, which made him grumble.

"Looks like they lack training on this ship..."

Finally, he put together five combinations that he brought back to the elevator doors. Diane had brought four, and another injured man brought five.

To his surprise, he also saw that Diane had also picked up an E-11 blaster.

"Where did you find it?"  
"It was placed in the hallway behind the elevator shaft. It may be out of order"

Jed examined the weapon. The battery was at seventy percent, indicating the gun had already been fired. He aimed his gun at a wall and instantly understood why it had been left behind.

"The sight is HS" he said. "A shock or shrapnel shattered the optics"

"But it's still functional" he thought.

"I'm keeping it. In the event of a skirmish at close range, I'll shoot at judge"

They checked all the combinations again and two were discarded. At last the count was there, each one had his own. All that remained was to put them on.

Jed looked around the assembly. There was one belly-wounded man who was curled up carrying his pocket; others wore splints on his arms, legs, or both. One head wounded man was completely blinded by his bandages and was guided by his neighbour's voice.

"A nice bunch of winners" said the lieutenant to himself. "If I take all this back to the castle, it will be a great feat"

He helped the most affected to get dressed, which for some was quite laborious and pulled off a few grimace of pain. Finally it was his turn.

Diane saw the rough, stiff bandage of clotted blood he was wearing on his right side.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.  
"Not yet"

He locked the helmet. Now he had to go out through a turret. Port or Starboard? He hesitated for a few moments and chose Port. He signalled to the troop to follow him and they all went into the nearest turret.

The airlock being small, they had to pass two by two or even alone for the most bulky wounded. Finally it was Jed's turn to close the march.

Just as the airlock doors were closing, he heard the elevator engines start up.

"Just in time!" He couldn't help but think.

The wounded were in the turret. The suits had strange shapes; the empty sleeves had swollen like balloons and were grotesquely gushing out of the torsos. There was something to laugh about, no matter how serious the situation.

He walked towards the escape hatches. There was one on either side of the turbolasers. He chose the one on the port side, opened it and signaled the others to move forward.

They went out and walked to the surface of the ship.

Fortunately, they had exited through the turret closest to the castle, which reduced the distance. However, they had to climb up along it to reach the upper airlocks near the command post where they would be safe.

"As long as they hadn't locked all the exits" he thought. "That will doom us all"

They weren't there yet. We had to go up, and despite the magnetic soles, it wouldn't be a health ride.

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Main Lift.

The stand-alone terminal started squealing, startled Crebs and a few soldiers. He pressed the receive button to hear:

"You're good to go"  
"Copy that. We're moving out"

Everyone was ready. A soldier triggered the suction pumps to create a vacuum in the airlock, and the suits inflated imperceptibly.

A Death Trooper signalled the crew to follow him. Everything was done by gesture, with no radio transmission allowed.

The outer airlock opened. The troop exited in single file and headed for the Republican ship just above them. When they came in contact with the ship's wall, the troopers used their magnetic soles and began to climb the destroyer from the rear, between the main thrusters.

The soldiers only looked at the back of the one in front of them. The radiation from the thrusters was intense, although both ships were almost at a standstill. Everyone was sweating profusely in their light suits. Crebs thought:

"It's a good thing they're not at full power. We would have been instantly fried"

He couldn't help but add for himself: "Although we'd better get into a med chamber after this. We need to take a hell of a dose"

The nozzles were now below them. They started climbing up the starboard side of the castle between the pipes and the heat exchangers. Near-zero gravity reduced muscle power but required great concentration in movement.

The Death Troopers in the lead set a hell of a pace, and the regulars could barely keep up. Crebs was getting tired, too. He thought with a hint of bitterness:

"Too old for this silly job"

He saw Isse before him, frolicking as if that was all he had done all his life.

"Quite a fellow anyway", he thought to himself. "The subtlety of a beam, but when you have to pay the price there is nothing to add"

Isse was really raised from the rank, which was very rare in the imperial army where the officers formed a caste apart. He had earned all his stripes on the battlefield and aroused much resentment and jealousy among the other ranks.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was given this mission to bring him to a glorious end", concluded the former Jedi.

Finally, everyone stopped. Crebs looked up and saw the airlock door and the countermeasures specialist who had already taken down the access panel and plugged in his devices to force the system. He thought:

"It's the moment of truth. Either these diabolical devices work, or we're all dead"

Indeed, the oxygen reserves of the suits were not sufficient for the return trip.

For a moment they all thought it was too long, then the specialist raised his thumb and the airlock began to open.


	31. Courage and vertigo

Republican base of "Biem Hoa", central core.

There were seven of them: Bujac, Blom, Yil, Shi, Yegor, Julius and Jay. They were carpeted in a nook between two bungalows just inside the inner core of the base.

Yil and Yegor kept watch while the rest of the gang discussed how to proceed.

Julius began:

"We've got to get out of this mousetrap. As soon as the power's back on, the Reps will criss-cross the area and we'll be taken back"  
"To go where?" answered Blom. "We can't hide on this damn planet"  
"We can try our luck at the space base" said Shi.

Jay came out of his torpor:

"I had to be transferred to the Angel of Mercy. At least that's what one of the guards told me before he died"  
"So a shuttle may be approaching..." note Shi.  
"We need weapons" Julius said. "We can't board a ship with three sharpened nails"

Yil heard everything and got into the conversation:

"Maybe it can be arranged. As I went out for chores, I memorized the plan of the base, and we're not far from the armory"  
"You're thinking of attacking the armory with a rusty nail?" Replied Blom. "I didn't know you were so brave!"  
"That won't be necessary. They must be under a bit of pressure"

He turned to Jay.

"Major, I see they gave you a uniform jacket. Can you lend it to me?"  
"Of course"

She took the jacket off and handed it to the convict. He put it on. Yil wasn't a big guy, so the jacket was almost his size.

"A little while ago" he threw to the cantonade as he walked out into the dark alley.

Everyone looked at each other in amazement, Bujac included.

"Does he know what your friend is doing?" asked Shi.  
"Yes" Julius answered. "This guy was a crook in a previous life"  
"We just have to wait for him" added Blom. "I hope he'll be back before the light..."

The conversation ceased. An apparent calm reigned on the base, disturbed from time to time by calls from patrols along the fence in the central area. Jay approached Bujac and whispered to him:

"I was on my way to the space zone when my escort was attacked. It wasn't human. Well, I don't really know..."

She's describing it to him. Bujac answered her immediately in the dark.

"He's a teraplite. Genetic manipulation, polyorganic transplants, enhanced metabolism, these are being used as a smart weapon by high-ranking sith officials"  
"Just why was he unarmed?"  
"He must have been ordered to neutralize without noise"  
"It was a bit of a dud. The soldiers had time to fire before they were killed"  
"His master probably wanted to have a little fun with your two guards..."  
"That's not very smart"  
"They're not always, fortunately"

There was silence and then Jay said:

"Why didn't he catch me?"  
"He got hung up by a patrol. He had to flee on orders and that wasted his time"  
"Can he spot us?"  
"No, he can't. But his master is able to do it"

Jay then told him about his last conversation with the voice.

"Ergon!" said the former Jedi, restraining himself from whistling.

He added:

"You must be worth it, Major! He's one of the worst Sith masters!"  
"It's crazy; everyone wish good for me now" replied Jay.

Bujac didn't answer. In the darkness of the lane where they were hiding, Jay couldn't see his face. But if the light had come back just then, she would have had the mask of fear in front of her.

And courage too.

* * *

Yil came back ten minutes later, loaded as a mule. He announced proudly:

"Santa Claus is back!"  
"But how did you do it?" asked Blom puzzled.  
"I told them a tale about how I was sent by the commander to get weapons for protect the hospital"  
"And they bought that?"  
"I explained to them that the nurses were in danger of being thrown to the imperial bullies, and at the end, I had to turn down extra ammunition! "

The convicts burst out laughing.

"Well done" admitted Bujac, laughing in unison.

Yil continued with a wink: "I've got an extra one for you, Major".

He handed her a sniper blaster.

"I saw it on the rack and had it brought to me. Unfortunately, there are only two batteries, this model not being common to both sides..."

Jay recognized the weapon and her spirit soared.

"Yil, I have to kiss you!"  
"Wait till you're remade up for it" the convict replied. "I want to take full advantage of this promise!"

Bujac then took the floor.

"Well, on the way to the tracks. If it goes wrong, we'll have to continue on and go to the maintenance depot which is right after. We can stay there for a day or two. We will then advise"

Weapons were spread out and they set off.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", port side castle.

The ascent had begun and Jed closed the march. He played the role of the broom wagon, pushing some, guiding the others, in order to prevent the column from stretching too much.

An easy section appeared before him. He slightly increased the pressure of his suit to give himself a boost.

He was sleepy.

"Another hundred... no, a hundred and sixty yards" he thought to himself as he stared at the airlocks, which seemed small, small...

He stared at them like an exhausted mountaineer focuses on the edge of a peak. He recalls from his youthful excursions: "The last fifty yards are always the hardest".

He yawned, and suddenly all his senses went out of whack. He was motionless and he fell, he straightened up collapsing, he was looking up and all he could see was his feet...

He didn't even feel his magnets coming off the wall.

In front of him, the column was moving slowly, trying not to stop, as if gravity still existed and threatened to roll them down the metal cliff at the slightest mistake. No one had noticed anything.

At that moment, Diane grabbed the edge of a hood that was encroaching on her path with her validating hand, and in took the opportunity to turn around to see if everyone was following. What she saw then took her breath away.

Jed was drifting away, making slow, disorderly gestures, as if he wanted to mime a drowning. He wasn't too far from the ship yet, but she saw that his erratic movements were in danger of making the situation worse by the second.

She got back down to him as fast as she could. She reached the place where he stalled but he had already gone away, and she could no longer reach him.

There she was, looking at him fifteen yards from her, so close and already almost lost, when she felt a touch on her back. It was one of the injured who approached her and gestured to her with a valid arm. At first, she did not understand.

Her companion showed her his feet. In the end, he bent down, gently grabbed Diane's right ankle, unhooked the magnetic sole and then repeated the same operation on the left. Without letting go of her, he began to raise her gently above his head. Then she understood that he wanted to bring her closer to the drifting soldier.

But that wasn't enough, because by then Jed had come another yard.

A second wounded man then came to take the first one's ankles, then another and another...

The show was totally surreal. A kind of giant, deformed, giant caterpillar, with a lot of grotesque tentacles rising from the vessel in an attempt to snatch its taunting prey. Diane saw his target approaching, but suddenly she did not move forward. She turned her head towards the ship, and saw that all the wounded who could participate in this chain were mobilized. Do were the blind and the armless man, who had stayed where they had left off.

It was still two yards short. Diane motioned to the wounded man holding her ankles to let her go, which he refused to do. She almost gave him a kick, but she controlled herself in extremis.

She looked at Jed again, hoping for a miracle.

At that moment, the lieutenant made another big gesture, but instead of moving him away, he slipped the blaster he was carrying on his shoulder and sent it to Diane.

She recovered it by the barrel. Without really thinking about it, she unhooked a ring from the strap, and holding the end of it, sent the weapon back to the lieutenant.

The blaster hit the helmet, bounced off the arm, and, purely instinctive or military training, Jed grabbed the weapon and never let go.

Diane thought she was going to pass out, but from that moment on she was just a hand gripping a strap.

* * *

The caterpillar crawled into its lair.

The wounded man brought her back to the wall, and she felt the clacking of her soles on the metal surface. She then pulled the shoulder strap, and Jed came to put his boots on the ship. Diane saw through his visor that he had become himself again, and that reassured her. He picked up his blaster, hung up the strap, and walked back to the airlocks.

They arrived there five minutes later. Jed typed the codes, and everyone saw with relief the panels sliding.

Unlike the turrets, the airlock was quite spacious and they could all enter it without problem.

The outer doors closed, and the pumps started to restore the pressure. Finally, a green light came on and they could take off their helmets. At first there was a moment of silence, finally broken by the lieutenant:

"We don't really know how far the imperials got. You will press yourself against the walls when the doors are opened"

Diane removed the protective cap from her syringe with her teeth. This done, she said:

"Don't make jokes like you did before, Lieutenant, or my first injection will be for you! "  
"I'll earn it, Sergeant" replied Jed. "I don't know what came over me..."  
"He's taken it from you that you're only a man and not a battle droid!"

Jed swept the congregation away.

"Thank you guys" he said. "I couldn't have done it alone"  
"Too bad the blind man didn't see that and the unarmed man couldn't take a picture!" replied the wounded man in the belly.

The whole crowd laughed, which at the same time ripped a few grins of pain from some of them.

Jed stood up, took the safety off his blaster and came to the door. Diana stood in front of the opening keyboard while the rest of the group spread out against the walls.

Jed stood up, removed the security from his blaster and came to stand outside the door. Diane stood in front of the opening keyboard while the rest of the group spread out against the walls.

He nodded, the sergeant drummed on the keyboard, and the panels started to move.


	32. Death is kind

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command post.

Judd had eaten and drunk half of what he brought. He could hear Youlia on the intercom as he heard the admiral remained prostrate on the chair brought to him on the bridge.

"Hold especially your position. I'm sending you everything I have left"

She hung up, and announced in a loud voice:

"Evacuation of the command post! Only helmsmen, navigation and a transmission operator should remain! The others descend to zero level or an assignment will be given to them! Immediate execution!"

The operators began to shut down their workstations. Judd froze without really understanding the meaning and consequences of what was just said.

Yulia turned her head to the bridge:

"Admiral, the entire hangar fell, but we managed to stop the Imperials at the bottom of the castle"  
"Well, well..." Rousseau replied in a soft voice.  
"Hoth's Revenge II has just arrived. The "Space Queen IV" will be there in five minutes. The hardest part is past"

She saw Judd on the bridge and ticked.

"Lieutenant, I said everybody!"  
"I'm the Admiral's aide-de-camp; you don't have to order me around!"  
"Oh, yes, I do! In an emergency, I have full authority! Get out at once!"

Judd turned to the admiral, but the admiral seemed completely indifferent. He made a vague hand gesture, as if to say goodbye.

All that remained was to obey. With rage in his heart and fear in his stomach, he saluted and left the station.

Youlia returned to the transmission console.

"Tell the frigates that all we have left is the castle. Tell them not to send anyone to the airlocks of the bunkers!"  
"It's not possible Colonel" replied the operator, "it's all still blurred"  
"Damn it! I had forgotten! Stay tuned!"  
"Copy that, Colonel"

She relaxed a little anyway. The imperial offensive had reached its extreme point, the counteroffensive was about to follow.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", starboard command post airlock.

The commando entered the airlock, Crebs the last.

The specialist hit the keypad and the outer doors closed. They heard the vibration of the pumps that filled the room with air. At last the green light came on, and the soldiers removed their combinations while the Death Troopers folded their shrouds.

Isse repeated the final instructions.

"No shots! Only edged weapons! If a grenade is thrown by the defenders you will cover it with your body! Do you understand me?"  
"Loud and clear!" replied the members of Internal Security, securing their weapons.

They weren't wearing their uniforms, but recovered Republican outfits. One of them was securing a large Bowie knife in a holster under his jacket while his neighbour slipped a truncheon up his sleeve.

Isse then turned to the Death Trooper.

"You, hide for now"

He added:

"At my command, you will play the turtle and bring the package or you know. Crebs and I will act as liaison between groups"

The "blacks" approved in silence.

Everybody got in place, the Death Troopers stood back, and the electronics man opened up the corridor on the main command floor.

* * *

The disguised troopers gradually discovered the corridor. It was a real beehive. The operators that Youlia had expelled were grouped in front of the elevators to take up their combat posts.

They went out and entered the aisle.

There were five of them.

Isse had selected them with the help of the colonel from Homeland Security. The first one, the scout, walked ahead almost in the middle of the corridor. The remaining four followed on each side, in groups of two, about three steps behind. That way, they could cover each other in case of trouble.

They moved forward at a carefully planned pace, neither too fast nor too slow. They had to blend in, become an ant among ants, drop into the stream...

They arrived at the first gathering. The first judgment. Serious things began.

One operator turned his head to the lead trooper:

"Hey, boys! Where are you from? Do you have news from below?"  
"It's holding. They've stopped moving, we've blocked them off around the main elevator"

Faces around here relaxed.

The trooper continued:

"Is the Admiral at the command post? I have a message for him"  
"Yes, he is still at his post. He sent us downstairs to strengthen the cordon"  
"He did well" replied the trooper with a broad smile. "Don't hang around especially!'

The elevator arrived at that moment and the doors opened.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, concludes the trooper. I have my message to bring!"

The four others who had remained silent smiled discreetly. Then they set off again, taking up the same formation.

The hallway had begun to empty. There were only a few people left behind in front of the elevator doors, including Judd, who was the last to leave the command post.

The leading trooper arrived in front of the starboard access to the command post, which had remained open after the departure of the operators. He pressed the button of a discreet transmitter at the bottom of his pocket and entered without hesitation.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

At first, everyone was reassured to see the flagship fill the bay of the command post. The large vessel appeared to be intact and the enemy vessel below, shifted to starboard, had shown no sign of hostility since the frigate had entered the channel.

"Still no radio?" asked the captain.  
"Always not" replied the console concerned.  
"Optical and thermal?"  
"We zoom in at most. No sign of fire"

The hold console announced:

"Space Queen IV" announces that they're sending the shuttle back to us"  
"How did you know that? I thought everything was jammed!"  
"We're communicating on an extra-short wave, Commander. Short range, but difficult to blur"  
"That's right" confirmed the transmission. "It would cost the Imperials too much power to cover it all"

The commander thought for a moment and then turned back to the transmitting station.

"Can the shuttle listen in on these frequencies?"  
"Yes, Commander. It is not its primary function, but we can send instructions to the crew to scan this spectrum"  
"Baffle it. Tell them to approach the flagship and go into radio standby"

The navigation officer noticed:

"It may be dangerous, Commander. If the batteries wake up..."  
"We don't have a choice. We have to figure out what the hell is going on this damn ship"

The transmission received the acknowledgment, and the small bright spot on the shuttle appeared in the main bay.

"They'll be on site in five minutes, Commander" announced the navigator.  
"I want contact every 30 seconds. Check the transmissions"  
"Copy that"

The captain then turned to the internal security officer.

"Are your guys ready?"  
"They're in the cargo hold, Commander. At your service"

Everyone turned to the bay. The bright spot was heading towards the flagship's castle. The silence was made, just chopped up by the transmitting station's acknowledgments.

The point came to a standstill. Nothing had happened.

* * *

A green glow appeared and began to flash on the small box that Isse was watching. He looked up at Crebs on the other side of the doors and said:

"They're coming in. Go, it's clear"

Crebs got up without a word and walked down the hallway. Judd, who was waiting in front of the elevator, saw him coming and said:

"Who are you? Who are you? I've never seen you before..."

The former Jedi pushed him out of the way.

"No time" he muttered.

Judd watched him pass, a little surprised. Crebs arrived at the command post after the commando.

The action had just begun. The five soldiers had fanned out to the positions still occupied. The leading trooper had advanced to the foot of the bridge where Youlia and the admiral were, had saluted, and was about to speak, when Youlia interrupted him:

"What are you doing here? Who gave you the order to enter?"  
"It's the main barricade colonel" said the trooper as he approached. "They…"

Youlia stepped back and drew her blaster.

"Your name and your unit!"

The operators had raised their heads, taken aback, without realizing that the soldiers had just placed themselves right next to them.

That's when Crebs came home.

Yulia turned her eyes to the newcomer. This was what the trooper at the bottom of the footbridge was waiting for.

A dagger flew and got stuck in the colonel's left shoulder. Youlia fired immediately, and the soldier was hit in the head.

In the same movement, she fired at the four intruders, but they had already plunged behind the consoles, overpowering the operators. There was only one wounded, the one in charge of the transmission post, which allowed the technician to discreetly activate the continuous broadcast.

So Crebs says:

"Hold your positions. I'll take over the bridge"

Youlia tried to grab the Admiral, but his left arm was already almost unresponsive. She kicked the chair hard. The Admiral barely reacted.

She kicked again.

"Move, damn it! Get up! "

The admiral finally woke up and leapt to his feet.

"Come out to port! Quick! The survival pods! I'll cover you!"

Crebs smiled and said almost without moving his lips:

"What a beautiful panic..."

He made a quick movement with his right wrist and a green dart sprang from his fist. He walked slowly towards the bridge with his arms outstretched, in no hurry at all.

Youlia retreated towards the exit, ensuring the rearguard of the admiral.

She fired on Crebs. From his lightsaber, he deflected the shot towards the ceiling. He didn't even slow down.

She fired, again and again. Each time, the light blade twisted the shot.

The Admiral, fully awake now, had reached the corridor and was activating the escape pods. The door opened, and he rushed in without looking back.

Youlia was pulling back without stopping firing. She saw out of the corner of her eye that the admiral was gone. Her adversary continued unabashedly advancing, still smiling. She screamed:

"Daemon! "

Crebs came up against her, grabbed the blaster with his left hand and took a right hook with his other hand. With the lightsaber handle acting as a brass knuckle punch, she immediately collapsed, but still managed to remain conscious.

Then she felt lifted by the collar and pressed against the wall of the corridor. Then she heard the renegade Jedi whisper in her ear:

"Don't fear... death is good... death is sweet... death loves you..."

He had cut his lightsaber and brought the handle close to his temple as you press a slaughter gun on the cattle forehead.


	33. Listening

For Jed, the hallway was like a theater set. On the stage, Youlia appeared to be pushed against the wall by a stranger.

He raised his blaster and fired.

The shot was not precise, but he surprised Crebs and made him turn his head. More by instinct than by calculation, Youlia threw her right foot with all her strength towards the crotch of her opponent. The shoe only partially achieved its goal, but still made her enemy bend. With her valid arm, she then punched him with redoubled fists and finally broke free in a crunch of cloth.

Jed rushed to support her when he saw a compact group of Death trooper emerging from the airlock at the other end.

He fired at the newcomers, shouting to Youlia:

"Colonel! Get out ! To the pods quickly!"

The Death Trooper retaliated, and Jed had to take refuge in a corner while Youlia disappeared towards the pods. He heard the access door close behind her.

He then saw Youlia's opponent painfully straighten up and light a lightsaber.

"Damn" he thought. "He's going to cut me up like a sausage..."

There was only the width of the corridor between the two of them. The imperials' fire stopped, certainly so as not to risk hitting the imperial in Jedi dress who was advancing towards him without smiling.

Jed jammed his blaster against his hip and was about to fire when a flicker flashed through his field of vision. To his amazement, the man collapsed without a word.

He turned his head towards the airlock to see Diane with a big smile on his face and thumbs up.

"I've always been very good at darts, Lieutenant!" she cried.

Jed risked an eye out of his shelter to see that the Imperials had disappeared.

"Oh, that! But where did they go?" He wondered.  
"I don't know and I don't care!" replied Diane. "We must leave here and quickly!"  
"The elevator!"

Jed ran to the elevator and pressed the call button.

"I hope they didn't cut it off!" he thought. If they know the floor is invested..."

To his great relief, the display screen gave a sign of life.

"Hurry up! Bring in the wounded!"

* * *

Isse and his commando entered the command post. The Death Troopers formed a perfectly coordinated compact block that exploded noiselessly on a sign from the commander. In the middle appeared the specialist.

"Do what you have to do" said Isse.

The technician walked without a word to the navigation console.

Isse then gave his orders:

"Pull back! The position must be held at all costs!"  
"To the death and beyond!" The "blacks" answered in their hearts.

Then he added:

"Two men with me! We're going Jedi fishing!"

They quickly left the post and spread out in the corridor.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", rescue pods.

Youlia made sure that the doors were closed, then looked at the two rows of pods on either side of the entrance. One slot was empty, the first on the left.

"He didn't strain himself" she thought of the Admiral.

His heartbeat seemed to have moved across his shoulder. During the fight against the imperial, the dagger that had stuck under his left collarbone had moved and began to weigh heavy in her flesh.

A panel on the ceiling recalled the instructions for an evacuation.

She read: "Put on a light suit to guarantee survival if the capsule is damaged." There followed a series of pictograms detailing the procedure to follow.

She almost laughed. We were not there anymore. Everything had shattered, the command, the fleet, the ship... and her with it.

She settled into the first capsule on the right, closed the sarcophagus and pressed the release controls on both sides of the bunk. She had to activate them one after the other, her completely numb left arm no longer responding.

A breath passed, followed by a dampened shock. Pneumatic ejection was triggered.

She found herself in the void, thirty meters from the ejection port. The capsule, carried away by its momentum, moved away from the vessel. She activated the recovery flash and triggered the on-board recorder. This device was used to collect the last message of the castaway

She made her report. No doubt the latter she thought:

"Flagship invested by collision. Command post in the hands of the imperials following commando action by the black guard. Crew entrenched in the castle"

She hesitated and finally added:

"If you find me dead, close the box and throw it in the dark. End of report"

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", service shuttle.

The LRSS liaison NCO was on the listening post. He had first gone to the "Space Queen IV", where he realized that the Commander had come to the same conclusions as he had.

He had then picked up his colleague and were back on the "Hoth's Revenge II" when the diversion order arrived. The two NCOs were then seated in front of the receivers, one listening and the other ensuring the periodic broadcasts to the two frigates.

Fate had designated him as a listener, which for the time being was not very exciting. With headphones on one ear, he was getting nothing but white noise and some interference.

Suddenly he jumped from a block. His earpiece had just sizzled. He hurriedly put on the headphones and concentrated.

At first he thought the interference was a bit louder, but then he recognized the clacking of a blaster. He counted at least five shots at a rapid rate. The sound was somewhat muffled, but he had no doubt.

He controlled the frequency of the broadcast and had a second adrenaline rush. It was the command post.

He announced to his neighbour in a curt voice:

"Blaster fire in the command bridge. Five shots at a rapid rate"  
"Transmitting"

He didn't hear the call from the cockpit.

"A pod just ejected!"

His colleague relayed the information to the frigates and then turned back to the pilot.

"Order to retrieve it!"

"Roger" confirmed the pilot, who began the approach manoeuvre.

He pushed the amplification all the way up and closed his eyes to concentrate. He heard a lot of confusing things, noises, scraping, distant conversations...

He was so focused that he didn't react any more when the co-pilot cried out again:

"Second pod ejection!"

Then, all of a sudden, he managed to hear an intelligible sentence and that was the final bouquet. That sentence was: "To death and beyond!"

The motto of the Death Trooper!

He thought he was talking, but in fact, he almost shouted to the man next to him:

"Death Trooper to the command bridge!"  
"I'm transmitting" replied the phlegmatic voice.

In the meantime, the approach to the capsule had been made and the co-pilot had gone to the airlock to recover it. He used the magnetic grapple launcher to throw a cable and began to pull it gently back into the hold.

He had just finished when he received a call from the cockpit.

"A second capsule had just been ejected. Stay put, I'm getting closer"

He grabbed one of the hanging rails running on the walls. The ship turned slowly and he saw a hundred meters away the second capsule which emitted the flash at fixed frequency.

He felt shocks reaching him through his soles. He looked down and realized that it came from the sarcophagus he had just recovered. He leaned toward the small window and almost took off his magnetic soles in surprise.

"Hold to pilot. We just got the Admiral back!"  
"Transmitting"

The co-pilot felt the blows double.

"I'm sorry, Admiral" he thought. "You'll have to wait. Recovery first"

He resumed the same procedure, which went smoothly. The second capsule joined the first one on the floor of the hold. He closed the outer doors and re-established the pressure.

He removed his helmet and then heard the blows coming from the admiral's sarcophagus. He paid no attention and leaned towards the window of the second capsule.

The glass was red and opaque.

"Wounded in the second capsule!" he shouted in the general line.  
"I'm transmitting" replied the imperturbable voice again.  
"Instead of transmitting, ask for a blue line with the ship's doctor!" replied the co-pilot.

He opened the lid. The smell of fresh blood seized her nostrils. He saw a woman lying in a torn uniform. A dagger emerged from his left shoulder, just below the clavicle.

"She must have lost two liters" thought the co-pilot to himself.

He got up and went to the wall box in the on-board infirmary. He opened it, broke the seals of the refrigerated compartment and removed the synthetic blood bags.

"Hold to crew. I need help!"  
"Negative. All stations must be held"  
"Do I have a line to the doc?"  
"Yes. I switch"

He listened to the doctor. The instructions were clear. Transfuse, don't remove the knife and put under surveillance.

He took out his own knife to cut the two handles and prick the transfusions. The admiral's capsule was shaking under the blows.

"I forgot that one" said the co-pilot. "After all he can help me"

He unlocked the lid and Rousseau sprang like a devil out of his box.

"I've been knocking for five minutes! Are you deaf or what? Your registration number!"  
"Admiral, I have an emergency wounded man!"  
"I don't give a damn about your wounded man!"

He looked at the bloody capsule disgustedly.

"Wow! It's repugnant!"  
"Help me. Hold the pockets while I find the veins"

He cleaned the arms, found the veins and pricked the syringes.

"The probe now..."

He unbuttoned the jacket and cut off the sticky blouse. The admiral pinched his lips. He managed to clean a clean skin surface at the heart and stuck the sensor to it. He turned it on and nothing appeared.

"Damn it, she's going!"

He began CPR. Blow, squeeze and start again and again... Finally the monitor started beeping.

He announced, wiping his mouth: "Welcome back to the front!"

He turned to the admiral who had remained frozen like a salt statue.

"Do you recognize her?"  
"Yes, it's Youlia Ashrod, the commander of internal security of my ship..."  
"I'll hold the pockets. Go to the cockpit to connect with the frigates"

Rousseau held out the bags and left without a word. The co-pilot, left alone with Youlia, saw the flashing of the recorder. He pressed the play button and listened to the message. This done, he says:

"Sorry, colonel, for the wide black, it will be another time..."


	34. The flag transfer

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command level.

Everybody had gotten into the elevator. Jed was ready to leave when he remembered the jedi lying in the hallway.

"We're going to take a prisoner" he said to Diane as he exited the shaft.

"Lieutenant, come back! You're crazy, there's no more time!"

He walked towards the elongated form. The lightsaber still sizzled.

"How do you stop that?" Jed thought.

He leaned over and tried to open the Jedi's hand, but the Jedi, though unconscious, held on tight.

He was startled when he heard Diane.

"Jed, they're coming!"

He turned and saw two Death Troopers and an officer running towards him. He got up, but he was already held at gunpoint.

It was lost.

"Go away, Diane! It's over for me!" he shouted.

He heard the doors slip and lock.

"Jackass!" he thought. "If only you had listened to her..."

The Death Troopers approached, still holding him at gunpoint. The officer stopped in front of the body and said:

"Is he dead?"  
"No. Just asleep"

The officer waved discreetly and the guns lowered. He continued:

"Your name and rank"

"Jed Koïnsky, lieutenant in the LRSS"  
"A scorpion, huh?"

Jed didn't answer. Isse saw the bandage under the open jacket.

"Hurt? Where?"  
"On Capricorn"  
"You've come a long way, so..."

Isse approached the sleeping form and grabbed the hand that held the laser. The blade disappeared silently.

"You have to know these things" he said with a small smile.

He turned to Jed.

"Take him by the feet. We'll take him back to the command post"  
"And you, under the arms" he added to the attention of one of the "blacks".

The soldier did so. They walked up the corridor towards the command post.

Passing by the airlock of the rescue pods, Jed discovered the wide bloody trail that Youlia had left behind in her escape.

"I didn't see her hurt" he thought. "It all happened so fast..."

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command post.

Crebs was lying at the foot of the platform, next to the trooper shot down by Youlia. Jed saw the syringe stuck in his neck. He reached out to retrieve it, but a Death Trooper came before him.

"You're a smart guy, you..." he said, waving to him to step back towards the other prisoners.

The coxswains, closely guarded, had taken their places and were waiting for instructions. The two other operators, transmission and navigation were sitting on the ground with their legs crossed, back to the station bay.

Jed went to join them, under the watchful eye of a trooper.

"Could the Admiral have..." asked the transmission technician.  
"Shut up!" barked the soldier. "I don't want to hear it!"

Isse intervened:

"Cool guys. We did the hardest part and apart from the scorpion they are not elite fighters. Let them chat together if they want"

The trooper pulled away, but the prisoners remained silent.

Isse took a transmitter out of his jacket, turned it on and simply said:

"Climb Mount Manarai"  
"Copy that" answered a metallic voice.

What's going to happen? Said Jed, who lost nothing around him. They still have a surprise in reserve or what?

Isse placed the device on the bridge shelf, and addressed the specialist:

"How's it coming?"  
"It's almost finished. All I have left are the recycling codes to crack"  
"Huh! You mean they can depressurize everything?"  
"No. I blocked the vent controls. But it's true, they can still block air renewal"  
"Good, come on"

The key crackling resumed.

Isse looked at the screens. He could see the two frigates approaching, and read on the radar that there were two more on their way to join them.

"It would be better if they would hurry a little below. He grumbled. It's getting crowded..."

A trooper who had come to read the billboards next door jumped at him:

"Commander, they're sending a shuttle!" he cried.  
"Yeah, you're right" replied Isse, leaning over the screen.  
"What are we waiting for to take her down? We're in control of the aiming now!"  
"That's not the orders. No shooting except in return"  
"But why, Commander?"  
"Don't try to think. Just hold your post"

Jed listened, and the more he listened, the more worried he was. An explanation was beginning to emerge, still pale, but he guessed it was great in his fog.

For the moment, there was nothing to be done. He closed his eyes and tried to doze off.

* * *

Louchké put the transmitter down.

Most of the stations were switched off; only the transmission and detection consoles were still active.

"Is the jamming still going on?" asked the admiral.  
"Yes, it is. But now that they are close, they can talk in ultra-short. I can hear them, but I can't understand them. It's encrypted"  
"What about detection?"  
"Two frigates at five minutes, two more at 15 minutes. And one lost in a black hole" added the technician with a wicked grin.

He continued: "They also sent a shuttle. No boarding, perhaps listening"

The transmission approved with a nod.

"It's up to us now" Louchké said.

Both operators turned off their screens.

The admiral then turned to the wheelhouse and the machines. Two sailors were there.

They had donned light suits but were not yet wearing helmets.

"Thank you for volunteering. It won't be an easy mission"  
"Above all, keep kicking their asses, Admiral!" replied the engineer.  
"As for me, I'll finally have the ship all to myself!" concluded the helmsman.

Louchké shook hands with the two men, saluted them and then left the station with the two technicians. The watertight door closed behind them.

The corridor was dark, only the airlock at the end was still lit. They headed there.

Louchké was dragging his leg a bit, probably remembering a rather extensive interrogation on Jagg Island.

Four Death Troopers were waiting for them. They saluted when the admiral entered and then began to help the three men into their exit suits.

"Was arrangements made for the wounded? asked Louchké to the highest ranking of "black".  
"Yes, Admiral. They were transferred by the holds to the central hospital where a doctor and three volunteer nurses took care of them"  
"And the prisoners?"  
"Locked in containers. A free one will be left with a shears"  
"Let's go, then, since we must"

He put on his helmet, took a last look down the dark corridor, and the rest went smoothly.


	35. So be it

Republican base at Biem Hoa, astroport.

Jay and the group were walking along the edge of the space zone, along the electrified fence they'd climbed. Lighting was still not restored and they could see the emergency hangar lights in front of them.

The circular airstrips were distributed on either side of a main road leading to the hangars. There were eight in all, four on either side of the track. Drainage ditches lined the central road and the landing areas. They sat down for a brief moment to estimate where the shuttle would land and decided that it should logically be as close as possible to the hangars.

The more pronounced erosion of the first four locations confirmed their hypothesis.

Bujac then separated them into two groups.

Julius, Yil and Blom went to hide in the drainage channel of the main road, just between the first two locations. Shi, Yegor and Bujac positioned themselves across the road.

Jay had followed Bujac's group, but Bujac said to him:

"Major, you'll cover us. I'll go with you"

They walked in the ditch around the first runway and then they went out along the fence where Jay quickly formed a small parapet to put down his weapon.

"It reminds me of sandcastles when I was a child" she thought to herself as she piled the mud with her bare hands.

She lay down, unpacked her weapon, turned on her night vision and walked through the landscape. She could cover the whole area as far as the hangars.

"It's going to be all right" she finally said. "Anyway, if I have to back you up, it won't be sniper work, you're too close"  
"Sniper or no sniper, you'll have to cover us"  
"Do you think the Reps can come in force?"  
"No. I'm not thinking of them"

He added: "I'm going on reconnaissance. Stay hidden until I return"

And he disappeared into the night.

"What does that mean?" Jay thought. "What does he still have to recognize?"

Ten minutes passed and Bujac appeared next to her.

"Major, listen to me carefully"  
"But..."  
"There's an R-Wing in the third hangar ready to go on a mission. The thrusters are being preheated. I think they stopped the procedure because of the power failure"

He continued without giving Jay time to talk.

"You are going to cover us up, but if these things turn sour don't insist and get the hell out. I broke into the locker room door. It's painted yellow. Put on a suit and get yourself on that ship. Or another one"

He handed her a holocube.

"It's all here. Mission orders, coordinates, contact information... You even have a fully funded bank account that's valid throughout the galaxy"  
"A mission order... but which one?"  
"It's all explained"

Jay was so stunned, she couldn't think of anything to answer.

"I'm leaving you, major. We will soon be done"

And he began crawling back to his group in the muddy ditch.

Jay stowed the holocube in his jacket pocket. She lay down behind her parapet and checked the battery level of her weapon. It was at sixty percent. She untied it and replaced it with one of the two new magazines Yil had managed to bring back. She checked it and was satisfied.

Now all we have to do is waiting, she thought to herself as she tried to find a comfortable position. The fatigue and stress she had endured was beginning to weigh on her. Hunger too.

She was struggling with fatigue when suddenly she heard the fence vibrate. The vibration decreased and then started again.

"There are several..."

She activated the night vision of her rifle sight and scanned the terrain starting from the side opposite the hangars.

She thought her heart was going to stall.

Four gigantic shapes were moving up the tracks, one on either side of the main track, the other two brushing against the fences. The rightmost one was heading straight for her.

"He's going to walk all over me eventually" Jay thought to himself. "I have to start with him"

She had aimed her parapet at the hangars, opposite her target. There was no more time. So she crouched down, put her elbow on her knee and aligned her collimator on the head facing her.

The cross descended into the shadow of the hood.

* * *

She was about to fire when the light came back on. The glare was instantaneous. She lay down on the ground waiting for her vision to settle. Once this was done, she raised her head and turned off the amplification of her telescope.

There was no one left.

She understood immediately: they jumped into the ditches.

"They can appear from anywhere now..."

She resumed her position. For now, there was nothing else to do.

She scanned the tracks in front of her. Bujac, Yil and the others were also ambushed in the drainage hoses. What would happen if they got caught? She felt the tension rising, but not by puff, by slow diffusion...

A soft hiss made him look up. Still high in the night, a vessel began to descend.

"Finally!" she thought. "Leave this damn planet or stay there forever!"

The descent was going well. The noise became more present and then she saw the landing lights come on. Finally the skids deployed, and she was pleased to see that the ship was going to land in front of her, on the other side of the road.

Perfect, I won't be too close to shoot.

The thruster burn diminished. At that moment, Jay turned his head towards the hangars and saw a speeder truck rocking towards the runways.

"Oh, no! They're going to ruin everything!"

She aimed at the truck. From a safe distance she fired, first into the front grill, then into the windshield. The speeder stopped. She didn't see anyone get out.

"They're hiding in the back. By the time they got a look, we'd be gone"

She resumed her post towards the ship and saw that Julius and Blom had come out of the ditch and framed the access door. Through her telescope, she saw the panels open and a soldier appeared in the frame. Blom grabbed him and knocked him to the ground. Julius rushed into the shuttle, followed by Blom.

Yil held the soldier at gunpoint while the rest of the group crossed the road to join them.

"As long as it goes well" she said to herself. A gunfight in the ship would have inevitably caused her to explode.

Seconds passed, as dense as hours. Bujac had arrived at the foot of the door. From where Jay was standing, she couldn't see what was going on.

Finally, she saw one soldier come out with his hands on his head, then two and three... on the fourth, the two pilots followed.

"It's okay" she thought. "It's all right..."

The soldiers were disarmed and pushed out onto the road. They started running towards the hangars.

She saw in her scope that Bujac was signaling her to join them.

Her first instinct was to get up and run towards him, but she blocked. She lay down in firing position and waited. Shi had already entered the shuttle, presumably to re-engage the thrusters, and Bujac looked in her direction, puzzled.

It lasted about ten seconds, and then what she was waiting for happened.

Four dust caches had just appeared around the runway.

She sighed. Let it be so...

Bujac responds instantly.

"At the edge of the ditch. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Around me!"

The five men grouped back to back, Bujac pointing to the edge of what would become an arena.

Yil asked: "Why didn't we get in the shuttle?"  
Julius replied: "Do you want to hide in a bomb?"

The dust covers fell and the tall silhouettes became burning bushes when the lightsabers lit up. Three giants arranged themselves in a triangle to surround them.

The fourth stood in reserve next to the sith that had just appeared. He called out to Bujac:

"Where is she?"  
"I don't know. She was taken away and hasn't come back. Did you ask the Reps?"  
"You're lying!"

Jay lined up the Sith in his reticule first. She was about to shoot when at the last moment she changed her mind.

"First do the job, cover your teammates..."

The cross migrated over the heads of the giant facing Bujac and fired.

Two heads exploded in the same impact.

It was followed immediately by the one to the right of the ex-Jedi.

One head burst again. She heard nothing, no screams, no howl of pain.

The Sith shouted at the fourth teraplite: "Go get her!"

He added to the address of the other three:

"Kill them!"

Jay fired at the colossus running towards her. Once, twice, three times... No shot ever reaches its target. The red darts formed an impassable bulwark of light, even though the power of the impact momentarily stopped the giant's run.

In the half-panic that was beginning to overwhelm him, an idea arose. She set her rifle to wide emission.

"Maybe dazzle him first..." she thought to herself at full speed.

She fired twice in a row, refocused the beam on the fly and continued her burst.

The shape in front of her seemed to collapse forward, immediately replaced by a new warrior.

"One of three. It won't be enough..."

The thing had slowed down a bit, as it was now trailing two legs and two limp arms that were flapping all over the place to the rhythm of the race.

The teraplite was coming to the edge of the ditch to cross it when at the last moment Jay jumped into the trench and shot on the silhouette passing over it.

She heard a lightsaber fall.

"Two out of three now..."

She didn't even have time to finish her thought. A strong grip grabbed her by the collar, lifted her up like a feather and she found herself held at arm's length in front of the last valid head.

Her rifle was ripped from her hands and sent into the ditch.


	36. My light, my chosen

Julius was beside Bujac when he heard the Sith's order.

He saw the former Jedi make a funny gesture, then throw something over his head. A thin orange cord sprang from his hand and quickly grew long.

"A laser whip" he thought. "I never imagined it existed"

Bujac spun the whip around the group. The movement was so fast that the three teraplites hesitated for a moment.

"Shoot through!" he shouted. "Aim for the legs first!"

They fired all their weapons.

The whip and fire kept the lightsabers at bay, but every now and then a lightning attack forced them to dodge. Blom felt Yegor's pressure behind him. He saw out of the corner of his eye Yil pop up between his legs and shoot the thing in front of him. A knee exploded and he took the opportunity to hit the bull's eye.

"You see, Yil, when you want!"

He heard a scream behind him. Julius, Yegor... Bujac maybe? There's no way of knowing.

* * *

The teraplite walked slowly, dragging the limp limbs of its two dead twins. He held his prey by the collar and firmly squeezed the withers of tissue.

Jay moved weakly and brought his hand to her mouth as if she was going to cough.

The Sith smiles. The colossus was only twenty meters away, everything would soon be consumed. Jay kept his hand in front of his mask.

"Come on, my light, my chosen one..."

He suddenly saw Jay's arm unfold, whip in front of the giant's face, come back, and sweep again and again...

The teraplite let go of Jay and fell to his knees, his two still valid hands clutching his neck.

Jay stood up, his left hand covered in blood clutching the scalpel blade she had stolen from the hospital. The commandments she had received during her classes were still ringing in her head.

"Be ample, finish your movements and strike through your opponent..."

Bujac saw the Sith rushing forward.

"No !" he shouted, throwing his whip forward.

The sith paid no attention, he was too far to reach.

The wick of light was almost at the end of its stroke when it suddenly extended with an orange stinger that cut the Sith's right leg in the middle of his calf.

He fell to the ground screaming.

But the defrocked Jedi had stepped forward too far and opened his circle of defense. A lightsaber sliced through his right forearm, turning off the laser whip in the process. A second jab followed, piercing his left flank.

Bujac rolled to the ground, dodging a third attack at the last minute.

The colossus who had wounded him raised his lightsaber to finish him off, his other weapon deflecting fire from the group trying to protect its downed leader.

The blade of light shone in the night sky. Then it went out.

Bujac did not understand immediately. The giant fell at his feet, unmasking Shi in the doorframe of the shuttle, a DC15 to his shoulder.

"Well done, the pilot" thought Julius, who had just shot down the last Siamese of the giant in front of him.

The last surviving teraflite flew between them. Only one of his Siamese had been killed by Blom. Bujac shouted:

"Cease fire!"

* * *

Jay was walking straight to the sith ashore.

He watched her advance without apparent fear. His light saber had rolled far ahead of him, and he was completely unarmed. She still squeezed her blade between her thumb and forefinger.

Jay then saw the teraflite running towards his master. She was about to rush to finish him off when she heard Bujac scream:

"Major! Leave him alone!"

The giant arrived, grabbed the sith in flight and disappeared by jumping into the ditch.

Jay then noticed the light saber that the Sith had dropped. She picked it up.

Caught in the act of war, she thought.

"Bit of Loot" she said to herself.

She joined the group.

Yegor was down, Shi and Julius around him. Yil and Blom took care of Bujac.

Julius stood up and said:

"For Yegor, it's over. He took a sword to the head"

She approached Bujac and crouched down in front of him. She saw in amazement that his severed arm was actually a prosthesis.

"Had you ever lost that arm before?"  
"Yes major. A long time ago"  
"Why did you yell at me to stop?"  
"You had no chance. You would have been killed if you had attacked him"

She fell silent and saw the body of the teraplite lying next to the ex Jedi, eyes wide open.

"Do they have feelings?"  
"Of course they do, Major. They are men in our image"

She leaned over his face and closed his eyes.

A pulsing noise made them look up. Two attack carriers approached, low in the night sky.

"It's fucked up" said Julius. "We wasted too much time"  
"Yes" Shi replied. "The frigate must be warned now"  
"It's also starting to stir around the hangars, too" Blom added.

Bujac then spoke:

"Leave now, Jay. Follow the plan"  
"Run away? Give up? That would be great cowardice!"

Blom mingled with the conversation.

"Do as we do, Major, obey"  
"And thank you for the help against these... things. We couldn't have done it without you" Yil added.

The renegade Jedi then ordered:

"Shot the lights! They must not see anything for ten minutes"

The blasters rose and the bulbs started popping all around them. Bujac then said to Jay in the reborn darkness:

"And don't worry about us. The Reps will want to know what happened"

She turned and ran back to her gun post. She went down into the ditch to retrieve her rifle, and saw the two lightsabers that the Teraplite had dropped in its successive deaths. She picked them up.

"That makes three now... I'm going to start a collection" she thought.

The sleeves were much more sober than the Sith's. Tools, not symbols.

She also retrieved her new charger.

"This is the last one. This better be good"

Still in the gut, she walked along the fence. Every once in a while, she'd see a print that Bujac had left on his recon. It reassured her. She arrived in the hangar area, which was brightly lit.

"Damn" she thought, "he got the easier part"

She stood at the edge of the trench and carefully glanced at the ground level. She saw the shadow of a sentry throwing itself against the wall. She waited for the last moment and then slowly lowered herself.

The sentry passed within twenty meters of her and then moved away. She let him go and took a look at the sheds. No yellow doors.

"It must be the next one"

She started walking again in the trench, and arrived at the second prefabricated building following the sentry a hundred meters ahead of her. She looked up at the level of the trench and looked at the doors. Still no yellow gate.

"On the way to the third shed" she thought to herself.

When she got in front, she looked first at the sentry ahead of her turn right a block further, then turned to realize that another soldier had appeared at the corner of the first hangar.

"I'm going to have to let him pass. I'm wasting time on this little game..."

She really wanted to kill him without further ado, but only barely managed to control herself.

She thought: "If I shoot him down, his absence will inevitably be detected at the next rotation and the alarm will be given. I would never have time to take a vessel"

She tried to relax.

"Can't wait to finish this, she told herself. Watch out, this is how we do bullshit ..."

The guard moved away from her, following exactly the trail of their predecessor.

"Disciplined guys. Not a step more or less..." she remarked. That made her smile and calmed her down a bit.

She observed the hangar. There was a yellow door right in the middle.

"At last! I was beginning to think I'd invented the damn exit!"

She jumped out of the ditch and ran along the metal wall to the metal door frame. The lock had indeed been forced, she saw it by the slight deformation of the handle. She turned it and gently pushed the door.

The access was in the middle of a corridor. She turned her head to the left and saw a glass door. She guessed from the noise coming from it that it was the access to the ships. To the right the door was open and she saw benches and lockers for clothes.

"The cloakroom! Luck begins to turn!"

Jay walked into the hall and closed the door quietly. His sniper rifle was a nuisance in this confined space. She tried to point it in front of her, but realized immediately that she was very vulnerable in a hand-to-hand struggle.

"I should have asked for a single blaster" she told herself. "I don't have an effective weapon for close combat"

"But in fact…"

She took the Sith's lightsaber out of her jacket and tried to light it in vain.

"Protected this thing... there must be a bio-reading in the handle..."

She put it back in her jacket and pulled one out of the teraplite. She pressed a discreet button and the red sword instantly appeared in a slight hissing.

She smiles. Rusticity is sometimes good...

She put her gun to her shoulder and walked to the locker room.


	37. The space ram

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command post.

Jed heard some bustle in the corridor. He saw a whole group of operators coming in, and they took their places without a word in front of the consoles. Only one remained standing, next to the seat where the countermeasures specialist was serving. This one, totally absorbed by his screen, didn't even raise his head in front of the newcomer.

After a while four Death Troopers appeared on the bridge, flanking an officer who stepped forward at the railing. All greeted him.

"At ease" replied the admiral. "The post remains in combat communication"  
"Yes sir!"  
"Do we have full control of the ship?"  
"No sir. There's still the air conditioning, but they're fighting like dogs to keep it" said the specialist who was glued to his console.

"Can they cut the renewal?"  
"Yes, but for the entire ship. If they decide to suffocate us, they're condemning themselves at the same time"

There was silence, then the admiral said:

"One problem at a time. Right now we need to lose the fleet"

The monitors came on. Lushke raised his head and asked:

"Navigation, what's the status of the Reps?"  
"Two frigates are behind us. They are maneuvering to block our channel"

The operator leaned over his screen and added: "Two more are on their way to join them. Estimated time five minutes"

The Admiral turned to the wheelhouse.

"Do you have control of the bow thrusters?"  
"Affirmative"  
"Full starboard rotation! Stop for thrusters!"

He pulled a transmitter out of a jacket pocket, turned it on, and gave the same command, reversing the side of the maneuver.

The two destroyers slowly began to turn in place in reverse, like the two blades of a pair of scissors.

An NCO then spoke and addressed Isse.

"And the prisoners? What shall we do with them?"  
"We can eject them by the capsules" intervened another trooper. "It'll waste some time for the Reps"

Isse thought about it for a moment and then finally said, pointing to Jed:

"Throw the techs out, but we're keeping him"  
"Why Commander?"  
"Because the Reps are still holding out and we may have to negotiate"  
"An emissary, huh?"  
"That's it"

The operators were mentored and taken to the pods. Jed spoke uninvited:

"You know you condemn them. They'll be swept away by the thruster stream when you go into hyperspeed"

Isse replied: "You're a pro like us. What would you have done?"

Jed fell silent.

"We must leave to Providence its share of the work" resumed Isse with a smirk. "We may envy their fate in three hours..."

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The tension had risen step by step with the information gathered by the shuttle. The captain ordered the communications console:

"Tell the shuttle to return. We know enough"  
"We know what?" Asked the navigation officer.  
"You haven't figured it out yet? It's obvious though!"  
"Are they going to attack us?"  
"No. They're going to slip through our fingers in hyperdrive!"

He added to the console's attention:

"Tell the "Space Queen IV" and the other two to come closer to us as well. We have to plug the channel to prevent it from escaping!"  
"He can always go out the front..."  
"In front are the devourers. We have to get him here and now!"

The two frigates began their maneuvers.

"The shuttle is approaching, Captain!" Announced a console.

The station fell back into routine for a brief moment. Usual orders, repeated coordinates, secondary parameters...

All of a sudden, they all freeze. The destroyers had just started moving.

"Reverse rotation of destroyers in progress!" Announced the navigation console.

The announcement had been made without any real necessity, because everyone could see the maneuver perfectly.

"They're turning around" said the navigation officer with a flat voice.  
"General alert! Ready to fire!" Ordered the captain to the Fire Concentration Centers.  
"That won't stop it..." murmured the navigation officer.  
"I know it won't! But we're not going to stand idly by!"

The intercom console operator addressed the bridge.

"Captain, the shuttle has arrived. Admiral Rousseau wants to see you immediately"

The officer made an annoying gesture.

"He's just lost his ship and he's still finding a way to stick his nose in!"

Nevertheless, he got off the bridge and told the navigation officer: "Take command. I'll see what he wants"

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", command post.

The two men that Louchké had greeted as he left were steering the heavy vessel without a word. The silence was only disturbed by the crackling of the listening transmitter.

The rotation had just ended. The four frigates were now in the middle of the main bay of the station. The sizzling ceased and they heard the voice of the admiral.

"End of rotation. It's your turn now"  
"Roger" replied the helmsman after pressing the transmit button.

They donned their helmets, tested their suits for leaks and then returned to their stations.

The helmsman said to the engineer:

"Full ahead!"

The levers were pushed at full power. The ship began to pick up speed.

"How long until contact?" asked the engineer.  
"About four minutes. It will be brief"

They were sailing at dead reckoning because all stations were off.

"Too bad we don't have the turrets anymore" said the engineer.  
"Yeah, but "The Cobra" had to choose. Sting or bite"  
"And he bit..."

The frigates were getting bigger by the minute. The blackness of the void was beginning to fade from the Republican battery fire.

"In thirty seconds the shield will no longer hold" announced the helmsman.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The commander and the admiral had returned to the bridge together. It must have been a heated discussion because the two men had closed faces. They took their places on the bridge.

The captain looked at the bay and the screens and saw that the two destroyers were facing him like two javelin spikes.

"They just finished their rotation," said the navigation officer who had just given up command.

He added: "I think they will force the passage"

The detection console announced: "Imperial Destroyer accelerating rapidly!"

"Fire from all rooms!" Ordered the commander.  
"And pass the order to the other frigates!" shouted the admiral who had just woken up.

The operators got busy. The detection announced:

"Captain, collision in three minutes"  
"It's strange, it's not firing..." remarked the navigation officer.  
"It must be almost empty" replied the captain. "Maybe they want to use it as a battering ram..."  
"Or as a firebrand. Or blow it up in the middle of our formation"

This simple sentence made the admiral jump.

"Blow him up! But what a horror! We have to go back all the way!"

The captain made a great effort on himself to stay calm.

"Admiral, it's unlikely. The explosion would also blow up their ship..."  
"What do you mean "their ship"? It's mine that they've treacherously seized!"

Mostly because they outsmarted you, couldn't help but think the officer.

T the firing console announced: "Their shield still holds"

"Is that all you can put on them?" asked the Admiral.  
"At this distance, yes. They're too close now"

The destroyer was now caught in the crossfire of the four frigates. At first, nothing happened.

Then, all of a sudden, a beam broke through and an orange fireball began to hatch on the upper deck. It was quickly followed by other blooms.

"At last", the commander thought. "It's starting to break through"

He turned to the communication post.

"Concentrate fire on the command post!"

The rays converged, but the ship kept moving forward.

"Collision in one minute, Captain!" Announced the detection console in a tense voice.


	38. The cleaners

"Biem Hoa"republican base, astroport.

Jay entered into the locker room with lightsaber forward. There was no one there.

"Damn it!" She thought. "I wasted too much time and the ship had to leave..."

She was surprised, however, because she had not heard a take-off noise while she was crawling in the ditch.

She turned off her sword and examined the room. The suits hung on hangers on a rack in the middle of the room. At the back of the room there were washrooms and a shared shower room. About ten lockers lined the walls.

She walked over to the suits and saw with relief that they weren't multi-layered suits like she wore in attack ships, but a lighter type, designed to retain a certain comfort for long flights. The helmets were placed on mannequin heads mounted on the wall like a collection of strange trophies.

She winced when she saw that these helmets had a flip-up visor but no oxygen mask. No way to hide her face.

"I'll have to spend all my time pretending to blow my nose" she said listlessly.

She looked for an outfit that fit her size and chose a light green jumpsuit. She read the name on the chest.

"Cai Seida". A woman pilot like me. "I hope you'll bring me luck"

She put down her rifle, and quickly undressed, keeping a lightsaber close by.

She was about to put on the suit when she heard the door at the end of the corridor slam. She quickly put the suit back on, grabbed her weapons and clothes and went to the back of the common shower.

She then realized that she had forgotten her shoes under the bench. She sighed deeply as she pulled the safety off her rifle.

"Hopefully they won't notice it" she thought. "If not, too bad..."

The noise got closer and she realized it was two people. The benches creaked and she listened to their conversation.

"They keep threatening me ! It's been four hours since I should have taken off!"  
"Yeah. But between the blackout and the mess with the shuttle, we couldn't pretend nothing happened"  
"Meh, once the hangar was open I could launch in 30 seconds..."  
"Sure. And who would have fixed the thrusters afterwards? You're not on your X-wing right now!"  
"Well, well... In the meantime, I need to piss"  
"Okay, I'm going back to the ship. Hurry up"

She heard the mechanic's footsteps decay as the pilot took off his suit. This done, he went into the toilet and she heard a cataract sound.

"How can they be so loud?" she wondered.

She set her rifle to non-lethal fire then stepped out of hiding. She spotted the toilet and stood in the blind spot of the door. There was nothing more to do but wait.

Finally the lock turned green and the pilot exited. As soon as he passed the door, she fired.

In the confined space of the room, the snap sounded deafening. The pilot received the shock full in the chest, staggered but did not fall.

"That's not possible" Jay thought to himself. "The guy's built like a tree trunk"

The pilot looked at her, frowned and pounced on her. She stepped back, bumped into a locker, and fired a second time. The discharge hit him in the face and he collapsed.

"Phew" she sighed. "I'd have bothered to finish him with a lightsaber..."

She pricked up her ear, but heard nothing abnormal. Apparently her two shots hadn't been heard from the shed.

She looked at the pilot and the suit he had put on the bench.

"I'm still having a lot of problems..."

Indeed, the difference in stature was obvious, while the suit was a bright orange where Jay had only found a green suit in her size.

"Subtlety is lost upon me" she told herself as she put on the outfit she had chosen. It will be necessary to go without finesse.

She put on her helmet, put on her face the cloth she used to clean her weapon, and went out into the corridor with her rifle on her shoulder and the lightsaber in her fist.

In the locker room, the pilot she had knocked out started to grunt and move.

* * *

Both carriers hovered over the shuttle and turned on their searchlights. Ropes were thrown and ten soldiers and an officer rappelled down while the five Imperials were held in aim by the on-board weapons.

In the harsh light that crushed the scene, they were disarmed, shackled, and seated cross-legged where they were. Portable lights were then turned on and the carriers landed on neighbouring sites.

This done, the officer ordered the soldiers:

"Keep them aiming and move back against the shuttle"

The ten soldiers did so. Without a word, the officer examined the scene. He looked for a long time at the two dead teraplites without touching them. He also saw Yegor's body, but didn't pay it the slightest attention.

Finally he asked Bujac: "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know" replied the former Jedi. "We were ambushed trying to take the shuttle when it attacked us..."

The officer saw the mutilated arm.

"A prosthetic, huh? It's a Jedi thing..."

Bujac didn't answer.

He turned to the soldiers and pointed to one of them.

"You, go back to the base and bring me the surgeon and two... not three cryo chambers. I want to keep these bodies for analysis"

Bujac thought to himself, "This doesn't smell good. This guy's not a standard officer"

He looked at his stripes more closely and saw the green strings on his collar.

"Intelligence agent" thought the defrocked Jedi. "They must suspect something..."

The soldier had barely left when the officer continued:

"A man to watch the prisoners. The rest of you, line up and sweep the ground to the fence. And walk straight! I don't want blurred traces!"

"They'll soon find something to do" Blom murmured.

"Good" replied Julius. "The more time they lose, the more Jay will get ahead..."

Indeed, calls began to pour in.

"Officer, I found a severed foot!"  
"And me, a fourth body! Or rather fourth bodies..."  
"There are also footprints to the fence!"  
"Ouch" Bujac thought. "It's getting messy..."

The officer said to the soldier who remained on guard:

"Watch them. At the slightest gesture shoots without warning. I will see"

He was careful to walk in the footsteps of the soldier who had made the first call, joined him, and saw the severed limb.

"It's not the same team. They all have their feet over there..."

He continued in the trail to the next soldier who was stopped in front of the teraplite that Jay had cut his throat. The infantryman showed him the body and said in a strained voice:

"What's that, officer? Some new Imperial trick?"  
"No, I don't believe it is"

He leaned over the body, still without touching it.

"It's odd, he was killed in two different ways. Both near the shuttle succumbed to blaster fire, but not this one"

He heard a call from further away, just against the fence.

"Officer, there's a firing post here. And a charger!"

He went forward again and reached the drainage ditch between the site and the fence. The soldier who had called him was on the other side of the trench. He showed him the accumulator.

"Not a common weapon..." he said.

The soldier pointed to the sheds: "The footprints go in that direction"

An R-Wing was taking off.

"I fear the worst" said the officer then with a wry grin.


	39. As on parade

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", command post.

"We're taking it hard" said the engineer.  
"As long as we keep moving, it's okay" replied the helmsman.

Suddenly all the rays converged on the bay.

"Take cover!" shouted the helmsman as he dove to the ground.

The bay exploded under the energy of the lasers. A A cloud of shards silently riddled the command post. The coxswain lying on the ground felt the impact from the vibrations of the structure.

"The station is untenable" he thought. "We'll have to order directly from the engine room"

He crawled to the mechanic and told him to evacuate. When he got to him he realized he had been killed. The shattered visor of his suit left no doubt.

"All I have to do now is get out. Hopefully the ship is still moving..."

He continued to crawl to the threshold of the airlock. The flashes of gunfire forced him to keep his eyes closed as much as possible.

"A blind coxswain is no use anymore" he thought.

Once there, he waited for a lull to quickly get up and open the door.

"Luckily it's bulletproof" he thought. "I would have had to jump out the window..."

He entered the airlock and managed to close the heavy leaves before the next salvo. The laser blasts shook the armoured panels. He ordered the re-establishment of the atmosphere only to realize that the procedure was stuck.

"Damn it! The whole floor is depressurized! Let's hope the manual override still works!"

He opened the hatch in the frame and pulled the red handle, breaking the seal. The inner panel opened in a fluid motion.

"Phew... it still holds..."

He started running down the corridor towards the rear elevator when suddenly the whole ship was shaken like a rattle. He sprawled out on the floor without being able to do anything.

One thought suddenly saturated his mind: "We've collided! I'd better hurry up now!"

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The inevitable had happened. As in a cinematic slow-motion movie, everyone had seen the enemy ship advance, slow down under the blows, at least they had the impression, to finally fill the whole field of the panoramic bay of the frigate.

The fires were perfectly discernible, as were the leaks of various fluids that gushed out in geysers and then vaporized in the vacuum of space. Despite its damage, the destroyer continued on its course, as though indifferent to the flashes of light that harassed it.

"Full starboard helm! Full power!" Ordered the captain.

The order had been given just at the right time, at the extreme limit of the collision. The ship started to speed up and everyone had to hold on to what they had on hand to avoid falling. The frigate was grazed by the destroyer.

"Neutral! All engines stop!"  
"Nice manoeuvre, Commander!" Approved by the navigation officer.

Indeed, everything was going well. The enemy ship passed within a hundred yards of the frigate, which was still firing at close range, when, about halfway across the destroyer, a shot triggered a violent explosion.

The blast then rotated the frigate's front, which brought its rear dangerously close to the advancing Imperial ship.

The commander reacted immediately:

"Full ahead! Emergency!"

The order was immediately transmitted to the propulsion system, but given the response time of the engines, it was already too late. The rear of the frigate slammed against the port side of the Imperial ship, bounced back, and the ship moved forward and collided head-on with the destroyer.

In the command post, shaken in all directions, nothing coherent could be emitted anymore. The operators were at best on the ground, at worst wounded or stunned. The captain and the admiral had been thrown to the lower deck and the lights had been cut. Only the instruments were still working on the emergency lines, which added to the confusion, as most of the alarms had been triggered.

A moment of chaos ensued, and then, as the destroyer passed by, the frigate stabilized in the din of the sirens.

The navigation officer then got up painfully.

The ship had a strange attitude, the floor was steeply sloping forward, and most of the operators had rolled against the large bay of the post, forming a motley magma of arms, legs and heads mixed together in the greatest confusion.

He climbed up the station, leaning on the pedestals of the consoles to reach the wheelhouse. When he reached the wheelhouse, he used the trim controls to return the vessel to a horizontal position.

"I hope it still works" he thought to himself. "Otherwise, we're going to be in a hell of a mess..."

The ship's nose slowly rose. He sighed deeply. It was the first step towards regaining control.

A few operators emerged from the overcrowding and came back to their posts. One after the other, horns and alarms went off.

The captain and admiral also appeared and climbed back up to the bridge. He asked the officer:

"Where are we?"  
"The three forward sections are depressurized and will remain so for a while"  
"What about propulsion?"  
"It doesn't look too bad, I'm going to send a team there"

The captain turned his head and saw that the detection station was unoccupied. He then looked out over the bay and saw the bodies lying down surrounded by a few crew members.

"Detection! Return to your post!"  
"He has a broken arm, Captain" said a voice against the glass.  
"He still has one left! We're deaf and blind! At the station, that's an order!"

* * *

Destroyer Imperial II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade".

The helmsman didn't use the elevators, but the rapid escape tunnel. He opened the cylindrical door and threw himself without hesitation into the shaft leading to the engine room.

The walls of the shaft had a coating which ensured the braking of the free fall towards the technical floor. Once at the bottom of the then, he pushed the door and found himself on the landing of the airlock leading to the various engines of the ship. He looked at the displays and saw that the floor was still pressurized.

"That'll make my job easier" he thought.

He took a quick look at the floor plan and walked over to the helm room.

Arriving in front of the airlock, he had a brief moment of hesitation.

"I hope they've disabled the passcodes" he thought. "If this doesn't open, we're going to be in big trouble..."

He applied his badge to the reader, and to his great relief the door opened immediately. He crossed the threshold, passed the airlock and headed for the rudder control cabinet.

Arriving in front of it, he opened it and saw the row of modules that controlled the movements of the ship. He spotted the trim rod control blocks, removed a small cap on the front, took a thin screwdriver out of his pocket and began turning the tiny screws he had unmasked.

The light bars on the displays changed from green to yellow.

He took out the transmitter and pressed the call button.

"Destiny Blade" to Admiral. I'm in the bar room and I've set the plate to dive. Is that enough?"  
"Admiral to Destiny Blade. Go red for five seconds and return to neutral"  
"Copy that. I do"

He turned his screws again, and a red dot appeared on each module. He counted down approximately five seconds and then turned in the opposite direction to turn the displays back to green.

The transmitter crackled. He grabbed it and hit the receive button.

"Admiral to Destiny Blade. The maneuver is good. You can block the ship now"  
"Copy that, admiral. Doing"  
"Good luck"  
"Thank you, Admiral. I deactivate the line"

He threw the transmitter to the ground and crushed it with his heel.

When he did, he exited the room, re-entered the airlock, went into the thruster room and shut it down. He had barely done that when the ship began to shake.

"They pass me over. Good luck, Admiral!" he thought.

Without hurrying, he then took the direction of the central hospital.

"To me the joys of the Republican prisoner camps!" He says to him.

* * *

Assault frigate "Hoth's Revenge II", command bridge.

The sensor operator moved forward carrying his right arm and sat down in front of his post. He rested his forearm on the edge of the keyboard and began to type with his left hand. After a moment he announced:

"Imperial Destroyer on rapid descent two minutes behind us. Ship... he hesitated for a moment. "Emancipator" ahead on the same course. Imminent crossing"

A voice echoed from behind the gunnery post:

"Shall I open fire?"

The captain hesitated for a moment and finally answered:

"No. It will be useless and we risk killing our people. Let him pass"

He spoke to the communications console:

"Pass the word to the other frigates!"

The admiral then spoke in a shrill voice:

"Are you going to let him go?"  
"They won the round, admiral"  
"You are just a defeatist!"

The navigation officer who had joined the injured operator at the console interrupted the conversation:

"Captain, I've got them at the theodolite. Contact the other frigates to do the same!"  
"Well seen! Pass the word!" said the captain to the communications station.  
"What will it be used for?" Barked the admiral.

The commander sighed inwardly and answered:

"To at least know their course. We won't know where they stop, but at least we'll have the line"

"But how did you become an admiral?" The navigation officer asked himself. "By lottery?"

"They grab them too!" Confirmed the communication.

"Crossing in progress!"

That was the sensor console.

Everyone looked silently across the bay. The "Emancipator" passed within five hundred yards from the frigate. It passed, as if on parade, indifferent to the Republican vessels that were making a semblance of a hedge of honor.

He left their field of vision and they could see the four hyperdrive thrusters already preheating.

The silence was not broken and the feeling that something terrible was about to happen overran the station.

* * *

Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command post.

The admiral put the transmitter down.

"Last message from the Destiny Blade. The mission was accomplished to the end. May everyone remember!"  
"Yes Sir!"  
"Navigation, have the coordinates been loaded?"  
"Programmed and controlled!"

Jed didn't miss a beat of what was going on. He'd seen the Destiny Blade charge against the frigates, and the damage it had taken and inflicted on the four frigates that stood in its way. The Imperial vessel then dived to give them a clear way.

They were less than a minute behind the destroyer to take advantage of the cleared space and were about to reach the frigates when the fire control post spoke:

"Admiral, we have 50% of the ion cannons operational. No turbolasers, power's been cut by the fighting"

"Return fire with everything you've got. They can't stop us now anyway"

Jed saw the frigates that framed them now, motionless, hanging from the big black like heavy metal fruit. Two of them had collided with the ram which had cleared their way and were lying in unlikely attitudes. The two survivors, a little apart, made no movement.

"They must have been ordered not to move" Jed thought. "It seems they're giving us the point..."

The communications console announced:

"Admiral, the jamming of the Destiny Blade has just ceased. Shall I take over?"  
"No, that would cost us too much power. Let them chat"

The ship had just overtaken the first frigate whose bow was crushed by the destroyer. Not a shot was fired. Jed recognized the vessel.

"This is the "Hoth's Revenge II"..."

He thought of the sergeant he'd sent on that frigate. Is he still alive? Where is the third one?

"There was definitely no good place on this mission" he thought to himself.

He couldn't recognize the other ships, they were too far away. The destroyer passed the second frigate on its other side. She didn't fire either.

"They let us go..."

Below them, he saw the fire-ravaged Destiny Blade.

"Must be hell in there. The frigates will waste a lot of time collecting everyone ..."

He had understood from conversations that the prisoners and the wounded had been transferred to the Imperial vessel. He appreciated the ruse at its true value.

An announcement of propulsion drew him out of his reverie.

"Hyperdrive in four seconds!"

Then the stars became lines.


	40. In her kingdom

"Biem Hoa" republican base, astroport.

Once past the glass door of the hangar, Jay walked towards the aircraft with a confident gait, without hiding in any way.

The hangar was virtually deserted. Two soldiers were on duty near the wide open door while the mechanics worked on the ships. She recognized the R-wing ready to go with the warm-up sleeves still connected to it.

The R-wing was a remote reconnaissance vessel developed on the basis of the T65, the old generation fighter that had been superseded by the T70 in the Republican fleet. The famous X-shaped wings had been lengthened and high-dilution thrusters had been adopted to improve range and stealth.

Another particularity, the R-wing was the last ship to keep an astromech R2 unit, this one having been replaced for the following versions by the more compact BB-8 version.

She arrived at the spacecraft and climbed the ladder to the cockpit. The mechanic was in the cockpit making final checks. He heard the sound of footsteps and said without raising his head on the dashboard :

"Well Rudy, you took your time!"

"Rudy was called. I'm replacing him"

The mechanic, astonished, looked up and saw the newcomer.

"Cai?" he said seeing the green suit.

He took a closer look at the face that filled the helmet.

"But you're not..."  
"Well yes, you guessed it" Jay replied and grabbed him by the collar.

She put the light saber handle on the back of his neck.

"Get out"

The mechanic unplugged his helmet and left the cabin, still under threat from the lightsaber. Jay then slipped a box into one of his jacket pockets.

"It's a remote mine. You're lying, you die"  
"What do you want to know?" Croaked the technician.  
"Is this ship ready to go?"  
"Yeah, I just finished reheating it"  
"We're gonna take the pre-flight check together. Go ahead"

They went around the vessel.

Jay had never flown an R-wing before, as these ships are uncommon, but had repeatedly evaluated captured T65s, so she wasn't surprised by the aircraft. She saw that the safety pins had been removed, checked the hatches and was satisfied. She had seen much worse on the battlefront spaceports.

She said to the mechanic:

"All right, unplug the sleeves"

Without a word, the mechanic disconnected the hoses. The other technicians, noses in the thrusters of a damaged T70, paid them no attention.

"We're going back up. Go ahead"

The mechanic climbed up the ladder and turned to Jay.

"And now ?"  
"Pass the upper thrusters at the fixed point"  
"But we never do it in the hangar! It's going to make a hell of a fuss!"  
"Do it and right away!" Jay replied, raising his gun.

The mechanic sighed, leaned into the cockpit and pushed both levers. The speed of the machines increased slowly. The hangar echoed under the blast of the thrusters. The mechanic stood up and was about to turn to Jay when she fired.

Hit in the chest, he collapsed forward.

Jay held him back, laid him down on the ground, and quickly climbed the ladder to slow the thrusters. The mechanics working at the other end of the hangar had raised their heads and were looking in his direction, covering their ears.

She lowered the levers then rose thumbs up towards the technicians. They understood and returned to their task.

She hurried back down and dragged the stunned engineer out of the ship's thrusters.

"It was either that or cut you with a lightsaber," she thought.

She climbed up the ladder, pulled it from its attachment points, and dropped it to the floor.

" I've got to get my rifle out of the way" she thought.

Fortunately, she found that the cabin had been adapted for long flights. The ejection seat could be extended to the sleeper position, and storage was provided in the sides of the fuselage.

She sat down on the seat and took a look at the instrument panel. To her great relief, it was not much different from that of a fighter, with the exception of the right side which featured the listening and detection systems.

"For the instruction manual, we'll see that once in space" she thought.

She was plugging in her oxygen and headphone cables when she jumped into a block. A siren began to scream. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw that all the lights on the R2 unit were bright red.

Then she noticed the little red light that had just flashed on the dashboard and flipped the switch just below.

"Shut up, copper heap!" she said to the microphone for the Astromech Droid.

The siren stopped, replaced by a stream of synthetic imprecations coming through her headphones.

"And rude with that!"

"It must have detected my ID chip" she thought.

She slowly pushed all four levers forward. The ship rose a meter and slowly exited the hangar. She then closed the cockpit, and very gradually increased power.

The tracks became lines, then dots and then disappeared.

She had returned to the deep black, to her kingdom.


	41. Epilog

Report written by the imperial historian droid Parv1101 based on testimonies and period documents.

The documentation necessary for the aftermath and consequences of the reported events is currently being compiled.

As part of the inter-historical exchange agreements, a full copy of this document will be sent to the archives of the New Republic.

* * *

Well, here we are at the end of the first episode...

When I started to write this short story, fifty pages seemed like an unattainable mirage and then all the limits exploded...

Rather than keep things in a corner of my computer, I preferred to throw out what seemed to be a fairly coherent story to observe the reactions to go beyond. Or not.

Thank you for your curiosity, for some of their assiduity, and any remark, criticism, or even argument will be good to take.

Ross Tanner


End file.
